


Bereavement

by OftheValkyrie



Category: Foreigner Series - C. J. Cherryh
Genre: Accidental Child Acquisition, Aliens, Angst, Atevi, Bren is not ready to be a parent, Cajeiri would disagree, F/F, F/M, Found Family, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Happy ending though, Humans Are Weird, Hurt and maybe some comfort, Interspecies Relationship(s), Introspection, Kid Fic, M/M, Multi, Politics, Spoilers through book 19 - Emergence, ambiguous morals, he thinks, lots of metaphors, starts out with a major character death
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-06
Updated: 2020-04-03
Packaged: 2020-11-24 05:28:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 28,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20902373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OftheValkyrie/pseuds/OftheValkyrie
Summary: And suddenly with startling clarity, Bren understood a great many things. It had been Tano who had spoken with him once, after the supposed death of Jase’s father. Bren had asked how an Ateva would react to the death of a close relative and the answer was simple. When a social connection was broken, a connection Atevi would refer to as the feeling of man’chi, then the instinct was to flock to the next and highest present Aiji. Aijiin collected man’chi and instinctively moved in to fill a power vacuum, it was a biological imperative. Man’chi flowed up and could not stop, filling in the gaps like water rushing up to fill a newly made indentation in the sand.You could not hold man’chi for a deadman. Not, Tano explained, unless you believed in ghosts.





	1. Chapter 1: The Breaking News

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have done my best to make this fic accessible for those who have not read any/all of the series. My goal is to have enough context clues for an enjoyable experience regardless of the reader's of canon knowledge. <3

The message came in mid afternoon as Bren Cameron sat at his desk in his Bu-Javid apartment. Bren paused, looking up from his Mospheiran laptop, and watched as Tano brought in an ornate message cylinder. It was an odd turn of events and despite the relative peace the planet and station have been enjoying lately, Bren was immediately set on edge. A message being brought _ to _ him, rather than being left in the foyer’s message bowl for a very busy paidhi-Aiji to read at his own discretion, meant it must be rather urgent. And urgent was never good.

Tano stopped about a foot from the desk and gave only a slight bow, in the way of the ever alert assassins guild, before holding out the message cylinder with Tabini-Aiji’s seal clearly displayed. 

“The Aiji has sent for you, Nandi.” Tano said. “He wishes for you to meet with himself and the Aiji-Dowager in an hour.” 

Inclining his head respectfully in turn, Bren opened the cylinder and unraveled the rolled up parchment. “Thank you, Tano-jii. Will you and Algini be accompanying me?” He asked while skimming the contents. The message was penned in Tabini’s own elegant hand, going through all the forms of a proper invitation to tea with the Aiji. It was a perfect piece of political footwork. 

Atevi were like that. They never had relaxed their strict social mores, despite the human’s rather biased assumption upon first contact that surely with time they would give up formality for the sake of efficiency and comfort, just like the humans themselves. That had not happened, even as the steady stream of technological advancements the human paidhi translated brought the humans and Atevi closer and closer to technological parody. Still the letter was perhaps overly formal coming from the Aiji, a man with whom Bren had developed a unique understanding; both being rather young, progressive, and technologically inclined men at the start of their designated offices. In all the years of their inter-species association they had reached the point where a message passed from staff to staff would be more than sufficient for a simple meeting. Though, Bren thought cautiously, the unusual formality could be to accommodate the traditional sensibilities of the Aiji-Dowager. The Dowager, Tabini’s great grandmother and Lord of Malguri, was indicated to be attending the meeting as well and, with as many near death experiences as he had been through with that old woman, Bren had never seen her anything less than perfectly professional. 

“No, Bren-ji.” Tano answered. “Algini and I must remain in the apartment, but Banichi and Jago are expected back at the Bu-Javid any moment and will be accompanying you in our place.”

With a sigh Bren released the paper, letting it roll back up on itself before placing it and the message cylinder back into Tano’s waiting hand. He had long since given up trying to keep track of his bodyguard’s more covert movements. 

“Then you can inform the necessary parties that I will be ready to meet both the Aiji and Aiji-Dowager in an hour, Tano-ji. I do not believe a handwritten reply is necessary.” He said as he pushed himself up and out of the chair, intending to locate his majordomo, but a gnawing unease gave him pause. 

“Tano-ji?” Bren questioned, his eyes briefly meeting Tano’s reflective yellow irises. It was a startlingly alien gaze to most humans, but to Bren it was an earnest and- well not _ loving _ exactly, one could not make the mistake of assigning love to an Ateva, but caring would do. It was a caring gaze to the human paidhi; simple translator, maker of dictionaries, and somehow in all this mess the Lord of Nashida and all the heavens, as per Tabini’s decree. 

“Is something wrong?” He asked his bodyguard, watching closely ready to make note of any subtle thinning of the lips or creasing of the eyes as Tano thought through his reply. Atevi facial expressions were practically non existent, the human proclivity for broadcasting one’s emotions on one’s face was too gauche, but Bren had become somewhat of an expert in reading the faces of his household and in turn they had taken to relaxing their rigid emotional control in select company. In this case, Tano obviously made a concerted effort to remain blank faced despite there being no other people in the room. It was a sign of a very disturbed Ateva, Bren was right to have questioned. 

“The Aiji has a matter which he would like to discuss with you.” Tano replied. Polite, but elusive and giving no further illuminating details. The paidhi trusted his aishiid, he would follow Banichi, Jago, Tano, and Algini to hell and back - though they would very much rather he wouldn’t- and Bren knew they would not lie to him outright. Evade, however, sidestep, obfuscate, hide, and conveniently leave out? Yes. Yes, all that they would most certainly do. All in his best interest, Bren had no doubt, but they would do as Tano did now. 

“Ah” Bren said quietly. He would leave it at that then, the paidhi could read the situation well enough and he was not willing to put Tano in a hard situation or risk embarrassing his youngest junior bodyguard by pushing for a better answer. 

“Thank you for your help, Tano-ji. I will be sure to prepare accordingly.” And with a slight polite nod Bren left.

\- -

It took Bren rather no time at all to be located by a staff member and spirited away to his rooms. His majordomo, the good and impeccable Ramasou, had obviously been made aware of his social obligation and was already set to work starching a fine lace shirt. Bren had never liked Staff’s help when dressing and undressing but as his station rose and the collars got higher, the lace sleeves more intricate, he surrendered himself to masterful hands knowing he could never get everything quite into place like his household could. 

A white brocade vest, jacket, and lace shirt were held out, open for him to slip his arms in. It was easier to put the three garments on together than to try and re-starch wrinkled cuffs that had been pulled through jacket sleeves. Bren was used to it by now, after over a decade of service on the mainland the confining court style dress became a familiar comfort when heading into unknown situations. He could only be grateful that his aishiid had not deemed it necessary for him to wear that damned bullet proof vest underneath, no matter how lovely the green brocade. It was a stifling garment even if it had saved his life on multiple occasions. Bren tried not to wince as he remembered cracked ribs and deep muscle bruises. Not a pleasant experience for the mainland’s singular, small, pale, and fragile human. 

In a matter of moments he was buttoned up, his que carefully pulled out of his collar and placed down his back, running between his shoulder blades and intricately laced with the white ribbon of his rank. 

At that moment Jago let herself into the room. She silently collected him and together they proceeded into the hallway, Bren thanking the staff appropriately as she escorted him out. Banichi met them in the foyer. He was dressed in his formal guild blacks, all leather and glinting metal, and cut an imposing figure standing easily four heads taller than Bren and double the paidhi’s width, large even for an Ateva. 

“Nandiim.” Bren said to both of them as all three fell into step. They made a felicitous number, for those Atevi traditional enough to be counters, fortunate and immovable even in the face of great strain.

Bren walked between the two large Atevi bodies of his senior guard, comfortably engulfed in their long protective shadows. 

“Bren-paidhi.” Banichi greeted simply in a low and rich bass. His aishiid remained silent then, as they made their way to Tabini’s. Banichi was famously a man of little words but dare Bren think he detected just a hint of concern in Banichi’s tone? The tension seemed to mount and rubbed at Bren’s raw nerves, a tense guild member forebode a great deal of unpleasant things. Chief among them was death, a prospect that the paidhi tried his best to avoid. 

Oddly enough, Bren didn’t feel as if he was in any physical danger himself. Surely, he thought, not here in the heart of the Bu-Javid where the Aiji and his young family resided. And they would hardly have left half his bodyguard behind if Banichi and Jago anticipated a physical altercation, Bren assured himself. They’d been through enough firefights already that the paidhi was sure of that.

“Banichi-ji. Jago-ji.” Bren called them once more, this time in the familiar intimate mode of address. “Help me to understand. What has happened for the Aiji to summon me with barely an hours notice. Has the guild picked up anything?” The guild had most definitely picked up everything. The Assassin’s guild had bugs in nearly every location imaginable. Spying, be it via listening devices, tapped phones, or duplicitous staff members, was such a common occurrence it was practically part and parcel with Atevi politics. It was safe to assume high ranking members were well aware of all major comings and goings related to their charges, though they would rarely admit it out loud. Rarer still to inform their charge, but Bren had long since worked out with Jago and Banichi that he could not work in an informational void. He needed to be informed of the politics around him as they happened, pleading that his human hard wiring would not allow him to blindly follow direction in the way of Atevi man’chi. For the most part his aishiid relented, learning it was easier to have him working with them rather than against them in a desperate bid for information they had not deemed necessary for the paidhi to know. For the most part.

“The Aiji would speak with you.” Jago said from his rear. It was not good then, Bren decided. So not good that even his most trusted companions on this side of the straits hesitated to give him the barest hint of what was to come. They would rather him walk into a meeting with the Aiji of all the Association unprepared than risk informing him of anything.

Bren tried not to spend the rest of the walk across the third floor speculating. The space station had been politically stable since the second coming of the alien Kyo, and the subsequent release of the Renunioners down to the planet. The human island of Mospheira was adjusting to their new space faring citizens with only the occasional outburst from the fanatical heritage party, overall daily life had barely changed with the couple hundred refugees dropped into the couple million planet grown humans. Bren had spoken to Jase, his close associate and one of the ship’s captains, just last week and hadn’t been informed of any growing dilemma there either. 

It could be the Atevi Association itself, having taken many recent blows leading up to the final over throw of the Assassin’s guild rat. But as far as Bren knew, thanks to his association with Machigi, relations with the southern Mauriid and Eddie people were improving greatly. There was really nothing the paidhi could pinpoint as an immediate danger, which made this meeting all the more ominous. 

Soon they were greeted at the door by Tabini’s new majordomo, a young Ateva Bren had yet to have the pleasure of properly meeting. The man brought them into Tabini’s sitting room where Tabini himself sat dressed in Ragi colors, a beautiful and dangerous looking brocade of red and black. His ankles were crossed and an arm was thrown casually across a large Atevi scale arm rest as he sipped tea. Next to him was Ilisidi, the Aiji-dowager and Tabini’s grandmother. She was a diminutive woman, almost human sized in her old age, resplendent in her black brocade gown and white hair drawn severely back into a tight que. There was a third chair next to her and off to the side a bit. In it sat another small Ateva, all gangly limbs and barely restrained fidgets. Bren paused slightly to look at Cajeiri for a second, Tabini’s young son come to observe and learn most likely, before addressing the room.

Bowing deeply to first Tabini, then Ilisidi and the young lord, Bren greeted his Aiji. Tanibi gave a flick of the wrist, gesturing for him to be seated and Bren quickly took the indicated chair, glancing up to watch as Banichi and Jago moved to take their place at the back wall. They stood next to the Aiji’s own aishiid as well as the Dowager’s Cenedi and even Cajeiri’s own Taibenese youngsters. All armed to the teeth.

Tabini took three careful sips of tea, giving proper appreciation for the fine beverage before placing it down. Bren, having only managed one sip from his own newly acquired fine porcelain cup, quickly and politely followed suite by placing his tea back on the saucer. He turned his attention to the Aiji.

“Bren-paidhi” Tabini began. His voice was a familiar silk and light yellow eyes, uncannily pale even among Atevi, a heavy weight. “I see no reason to try and confuse the issue with pleasantries, so I’ll start frankly. I have received reports from Mospheira that your brother, Toby-nandi, has been missing at sea for two weeks and the remains of his ship have been located off the coast of Najida. The Presidenta of Mospheira has just officially declared his death and wishes to speak with you at some future time. I would assume to reassess your association in light of recent losses. In the same vein, we would speak with you regarding your human associations and how we can expect your behaviors and associations to shift in response. Were you an Ateva, you would be much more predictable but I’m afraid despite the conversations we’ve had about human attachment as opposed to Atevi Man’chi your relationships remain unclear and we are concern-” 

Tabini’s calm voice grew fainter and more distorted to Bren’s ears as he caught up with what the Aiji was saying. 

Toby? _ Gods. _No, that wasn’t right.

It was hard to pay attention in the wake of Tabini’s bluntness. Bren wasn’t entirely sure if the Aiji was even still talking. It would be terribly rude of Bren to ignore him, he thought. He should say-

And suddenly with startling clarity, Bren understood a great many things. It had been Tano who had spoken with him once, after the supposed death of Jase’s father. Bren had asked how an Ateva would react to the death of a close relative and the answer was simple. When a social connection was broken, a connection Atevi would refer to as the feeling of Man’chi, then the instinct was to flock to the next and highest present Aiji. Aijiin collected man’chi and instinctively moved in to fill a power vacuum, it was a biological imperative. Man’chi flowed up and could not stop.

Atevi never quite understood the human concept of reciprocal love being exchanged sideways, to them it just didn’t seem an effective association, and death was certainly sad but they had no grieving period in the human sense of things. The restructuring of social associations in response to loss was simple and instantaneous. Man’chi flowed and shifted filling in the gaps like water rushing up to fill a newly made indentation in the sand. You could not hold man’chi for a deadman. Not, Tano explained, unless you believed in ghosts. 

And that, Bren thought, was why Ilisidi was here and uncharacteristically silent. Ilisidi and Cajeiri were his two highest ranking associations outside of Tabini himself and they all fell under Tabini’s overall purview. The Aiji obviously was not going to risk the unpredictable human looking outside his own association in the wake of this news. No Mospheiran president, no Jase, not even adjacent associations like Lord Tatiseigi of the Atageini or his granddaughter and Tabini’s wife, Demiri. No possible mistakes. No risks taken with an asset to the association, close personal ties or not. It was only logical. 

Bren stared into the silence, the sole focus of expectant Atevi. Tabini had most definitely stopped speaking and Bren needed to say something but he had no idea what. He had long since tried to explain the matter of human relations. Feelings such as love or even like, such simple building blocks of human connection, always got stuck somewhere between an old joke about salads and a false equation with Atevi man’chi. Love and man’chi were close cousins, they both served the same biological purpose but functioned dangerously different in practice. It was the largest remaining obstacle in the Atevi/Human interface, one that Bren tackled everyday. He loved his Aishiid and they gave him their man’chi in return. It didn’t quite fit, for any of them, but it functioned and he treasured their intimacy. But, Toby. Toby was his brother, his _ baby _ brother, and had been one of the last reciprocal emotional tethers Bren had. One of his last _ human _ relations, an equal exchange of love and knowing with great certainty that you could be sure of each other’s feelings on a biological level.

Despite being surrounded in a room full of people he lived side by side with and considered family for the past decade, that loss of human understanding made Bren feel singularly alone. He was sitting, dwarfed in a large Atevi scale chair, feet not even touching the ground, and just for a moment his world felt fragile and so unfamiliar.

Toby was dead.

Toby probably had been dead for weeks and Bren didn’t even know. He hadn’t been there, just like he hadn’t been there for Toby’s divorce or mum’s illness, not even Barb’s accident despite his mother’s begging phone call. 

The room seemed to pulsate, blurring in and out, distorting around him and Bren realized with a sinking horror that he had been silent far far too long. But again, what could he say? Demand space from those whose biology made it physically impossible at such a time. He couldn’t, not without ringing every major instinctual warning bell in their heads. This had the makings of a horrible inter-species misunderstanding, he could see it forming in front of him, and yet the paidhi couldn’t pull himself into the present enough to do his damn job. He didn’t have the facilities to finesse the situation, to soothe the Atevi’s valid concerns while still trying to process what little information he had been given as it slowly, dreadfully, sank in.

He was a diplomat, a linguist, and yet words fail.

In the wake of his paralysis panic bubbled up in his chest, the sort Bren had not felt in years. The more time slipped by in silence the more likely his distress would become clear, no matter how controlled his facial expression, the adrenaline already creating an odd tremor in his insides. No. He could not process here, not while every reaction and expression had the potential for wide reaching political ramifications. He focused on keeping his face neutral, working to mentally severe that nerve and praying for numbness. He’d already seemed to have lost some feeling in his hands, lower legs below the knee gone to a tingling static.

It was time to go.

With escape now his single minded purpose Bren moved.

“Aiji-ma.” He managed, voice already unfortunately scratchy as his throat began to dry. Bren pushed himself all the way up out of the massive seat and folded himself into a deep bow from the waist. 

“Aiji-ma.” He tried again. “Please, do not read anything Atevi into my actions. I wish to continue relations with all my associates and treasure them all greatly. But, at this news I find myself in some great distress and must retire to my rooms immediately. Rest assur-” Bren was starting to run out of air. “Rest assured, I will explain to the best of my ability the human process of bereavement… sometime at a later date. Please forgive me.” And with that Bren excused himself, unthinkably, turning on his heal without waiting for a formal dismissal. 

He walked straight to the door. His vision tunneling, the door remaining in sharp focus and his periphery seemed to twist and fade away, leaving him mostly unaware of his surroundings. Bren kept on straight ahead and doors opened for him in a flurry of footsteps. He spared a brief thought to think of Banichi and Jago, he hoped the pair were headed after him. Not doubt displeased at their charge up and walking away from his protection detail without a spare glance. But no matter how displeased, they would not leave him, Bren knew. 

\- -

Bren was unsure how he found himself back in his own apartment’s foyer. A staff member was trying to help him out of his formal outer jacket. 

“Thank you, Nadi.” He managed to murmur, worryingly preoccupied with the fact that he couldn’t remember if he had paid courtesy to the Aiji-Dowager and young Lord before leaving. He might have to send out an apology letter. No he should send out an apology letter anyway, Bren thought, mind bouncing around in frenetic movement. 

He found himself in his bedroom. The door was closed and he was finally alone. Alone in a way he rarely found himself, even while asleep given his frequent liaisons with Jago. No staff or bodyguard present.

He was alone and Toby was dead. Dead and Bren hadn’t even known.

For all the power in the world; all the spaceships he’d built and flown, all the wars he’d stopped, all the stars he’d explored, and his last blood relative was weeks dead and he was powerless. There was nothing left to do, the search was over before Bren had even known of it and there was certainly no turning back time. That read like a bad science fiction novel.

Bren stood there, in the center of his bedroom, and tried to remember the last time he had spoken to Toby. The last letter or phone call. Had he even known Toby’s last location? Had he still been ferrying illicit government messages across the straits, was that why Shawn Tyres had wanted to speak with him? To talk about government intel? Or an official public servant memorial service?

Gods. Was he supposed to organize a service? Surely Barb would take care of that, unless she had been on the boat with Toby… Gods… No, he couldn’t. Just couldn’t. Not tonight. Tomorrow maybe but not now.

Bren sank to his knees at the foot of the bed and gave into the tears that, unbeknownst to him, had been welling up in the corners of his eyes. Without a sound he buried his face in the soft outer bed linens, pressing up against a hand embroidered quilt most likely centuries old. The odd texture was soothing, a dichotomy of soft cotton and rough threaded designs. The fabric soaked up the wetness about his face and Bren just breathed.

He didn’t know how much time had passed before he was vaguely aware of two sets of large warm and strong hands bringing him to bed. Bren thought he might have heard Jago’s voice but didn’t listen particularly hard. The ache in his chest and stinging tightness at his throat took over and he burrowed down into pillows and freshly turned linens, the continuous flow of silent tears wetting the cover. Bren let the encroaching darkness relieve him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hop aboard the angst train my friends, this is written out to be a long one!
> 
> If you find yourself having trouble with names or Atev' words and prefix/suffixes I'd recommend checking out  
Aranwion's 'Atev'/English dictionary and lexicon' here on A03.


	2. Chapter 2: The Morning

Bren woke slowly. There was an unpleasant itchiness around the corners of his eyes and a dull sort of full body ache throbbing around his joints. He sighed and pushed himself upright. The stiffness of his collar caught him about the neck, reminding Bren that he was still fully dressed and bringing with it the realizations of last night, shattering the early morning peace. 

“Toby.” Bren sighed, suddenly more exhausted than he had felt in a long time. He’d dealt with grief before, had left on a two year space voyage the night his mother fell critically ill. He’d spent the one year travel time to Reunion station and one year back unsure if she’d be alive when he finally reached home. And a small, horrible part of him was glad for that. Glad for that distance and time, things with which to pad his emotions. She had been long passed when he arrived back on the planet but it couldn’t have been helped, he told himself. How could he have abandoned his position during a desperate bid to stop an intergalactic war that would have decimated the planet, their lost and rediscovered technology being no match for the space fairing Kyo. How could he condemn the planet to certain death so that he could sit by the bedside of a sick and elderly woman, who perhaps timed her emergencies a little too well. It would have been unconscionable. And, besides, she had Toby. Toby, who would drop everything to be there. Toby who had sacrificed his wife, kids, job, and happiness to try and live up to their mother’s unattainable expectations of her sons. She had pitted them against each other, no sacrifice great enough. In the end, Bren hadn’t played her game. Since leaving for the mainland and taking up his office he had tried to visit and support his mother but there wasn’t much left to their relationship besides a lot of "need you." Just like his relationship with Barb before she had run off to marry and then divorce Paul Sarinson, ending up with Bren’s brother. The two sailing away on his boat, Toby’s last possession after his divorce from Jill.

His relationship with Toby had been different than all that. Strained at times but there was true and active love. He loves his baby brother and always will, in a way he will never quite be able to explain to Tabini. And with that came real true grief. It was a sharp breathtaking pain that left a burning ache in his veins.

Bren swung his feet off the bed and wandered into the hall, not bothering to straighten his crushed and rumpled attire. He would worry the staff in this state, he was sure, but there wasn’t much helping it after a night of sleeping in his day clothes. Some small idiosyncrasies today from the mainland’s sole resident human could be written off as merely a mystery of his species.

He walked without real purpose through the household, not intending to sit for breakfast as his stomach remained unsettled and the thought of food made his mouth taste like ash. He had yet to see a single staff member and while etiquette required household staff to pride themselves on elusivity, frequenting secret passages for the shuttling of food and laundry, the complete lack of movement was indicative of a very upset Atevi household. Bren knew he was most likely the cause of the upset. It was a universal truth that strange and incomprehensible behavior pinged warning bells in every species the worlds over and for that he held some small semblance of remorse. 

As he wandered, the paidhi heard sounds coming from the guild station. The station was a small room off the foyer, strategically positioned in traditional Atevi households as a first point of contact during sieges or assassination attempts. Normally two of his aishiid remained in the room to stay tapped into the apartment's security measures, monitoring movement and communications to ensure household safety. Chances were good it was Tano and Algini, being both the junior pair and each holding more tech heavy specialties. 

Bren entered the room and was surprised to find not only Tano and Algini, but Banichi and Jago along with two of Tabini’s own men. All were gathered around in a loose circle, heads pressed together in a low but fervent conversation. 

He had only a moment to consider the fact that his current state of dress was a rather unfortunate way to be seen by outside guild members, even if they were from an associated house, before Jago’s yellow eyes flicked up to meet his and she stood. He had half a thought that she was going to usher him out of the room and very politely shut the door, but instead Jago grasped his arm and firmly pulled him further into the room, shutting the door behind them. 

“Your aishiid is saddened to hear of Toby-nandi’s passing. It is…” She paused briefly as if searching for something _ more _. “It is a sad thing.” She finished quietly.

“Yes” Bren agreed. It was a painfully simple exchange but at the moment it was the best the two of them could manage. The only way they could navigate such a twisted patch of their language interface. Even after all these years. Simple didn’t start wars, simple didn’t confuse meanings and hurt feelings. When the concepts got too abstract for one to one translations the simplest thing to do was to walk it back to well established equivalencies; yes, no, thank you, please, happy, sad. 

In this moment it felt terribly lonely, like a missed connections. The signals he was putting out not quite matching the signals his aishiid were waiting to receive and reciprocate, leaving everyone wrong footed and disconnected.

Jago steered him to a chair and Bren noticed belatedly that Tabini’s men had already slipped out through a guild passageway, leaving him with just his aishiid. All four pairs of eyes stared at him, unblinking and expectant.

“You worry your aishiid, Bren-ji.” Banichi said at last, breaking the silence. “You worry the Aiji and the Aiji-Dowager, having left so abruptly. Do you refuse to continue association with them now that a significant human association is broken?”

Straightforward and to the point, trust his senior guild to assess and prioritize the most dangerous possibility first. Despite the fact that Bren knew he had made a point to assuage the room of that particular concern before his rather abrupt exit.

“No.” Bren said quickly. “I am still in the service of Tabini-Aiji and my-” again loyalty wasn’t a word that existed in Atev', best he could do was “-human man’chi remains to the Aiji and through him his associates like the Aiji-Dowager, Lord Geigi, Cajeiri and Demeri.” 

“You left.” Algini unexpectedly chimed in, letting a rare frown show on his face. “Left, without reassigning Toby’s man’chi to anyone in the room.” 

Bren grimaced, that was the crux of it wasn’t it. Trying to explain and justify emotional decisions to those who don’t feel the same emotional motivation and may in fact feel the opposite. 

“Human man’chi doesn’t quite work like that. When there is a death you can think of it like… like a sort of amputation. You have to wait for the limb to heal before you can fit it with a prosthetic and you will never be able to replace the limb, just gain something new and different.” Bren tried.

This time it was Banichi that frowned. “But, would it not make more sense to transplant a new limb while the tissue is still alive. Replacing it and retaining functionality, reassigning man’chi before that tendril shrivels and dies.”

Bren blinked. Of course. Different biological imperatives create different perspectives on the same damn metaphor, he hadn’t even thought of that. It was like running into the same brick wall again and again.

“No.” Bren tried not to be frustrated, it was all he could think to say. He looked at the deepening crease between Banichi’s eyebrows and saw that his bodyguard was frustrated too. A frustration born of a desperately earnest want to understand and yet both sides falling sort. 

He searched for a clearer metaphor. “Maybe I misspoke nadiin-ji, perhaps human grief is like an open wound. It must be properly cleaned before it can be closed up, otherwise emotions will fester like an infection until they burst or need to be dealt with in much more invasive ways. I will need time to process and cleanly begin to heal and as a human I have an infinite amount of time. I will not lose my ability to reaffirm or create associations if I wait for when I am ready.”

No, Bren saw that that didn’t quite do it either but no one objected.

“Be assured.” He tried one more time, already growing weary of the day and the prospect of many more days like this to come. “My feelings towards the Aiji and towards all of you, my aishiid, remain unchanged and cannot be affected by my outside associations.”

That was probably the closest he could get, he could only talk about his feelings in the abstract for so long before he would eventually start to feel them and despite what he had told his aishiid Bren wanted to keep his emotions locked down as much as he could. No doubt Tabini’s men would be made aware of this conversation, as well as Tabini himself, and he didn’t want to add to the mess with more emotional outburst and ineffectual morning debriefs. 

Perhaps it wasn’t all a wash though, his aishiid did seem more relaxed now.

“The Presidenta of Mospheira has phoned. He would like to speak to you personally Bren-ji.” Tano said, having moved back to his usual position in front of a large array of monitors. “Would you like us to contact Mospheira through the dish at Mogari-naie?” 

“That would probably be best Tano-ji.” Bren said, at once longing and dreading his first human contact since the news. Shawn and him were friends of a sort from back when Shawn had been head of the foreign office and Bren’s direct superior. He dreaded the thought of hearing pity in the man’s voice. 

Tano handed him a headset and listened as relays clicked, signifying the security code was clean. 

“Hello? This is the Foreign Office, how may I direct your call?” A young female voice came over the transmission, clear of static. Bren needed a moment to switch to Mosphei, a moment which seemed to grow longer and longer with each year spent living on the mainland. 

“Yes. Hello. This is Bren Cameron, the paidhi. Please tell President Tyres that I am returning his call.”

“Yes, sir.” The voice came back. There was more clicking of relays and then the pick up.

“Bren. Good you called.” Shawn’s voice came through, sounding rushed and tired. “I want to extend my professional and personal condolences. Toby was a good man. Saved our asses over here on the island on more than one occasion while you were up in space.”

“Uh- ya.” Bren managed rather ineloquently, taken aback by the relative quickness of Shawn’s words. 

“Listen, Bren.” He continued hurriedly. “We’re having a memorial at sea tomorrow. Tell the Aiji and get you and your people out here on a boat. Me and mine will meet you in neutral waters.”

“So soon?” Bren questioned. “Shawn, ther- there’s no _ body _. Why the rush? And why in the middle of the straits? Tabini will grant me leave to visit the island, why not a ceremony off your harbor or somewhere on the north shore?”

“I know it’s fast for you Bren but you gotta understand that for us it’s been weeks. The closure is necessary. This story has been heavily in the public eye and we need something. Besides, we’ll be taking out one of the large pre war boats and it will be a good way to revisit our _ heritage _.” Shawn stressed and Bren had worked for the man long enough to know when to shut up and go along. Shawn wanted him there. In person. To meet in neutral waters, with possible indications of heritage party involvement. 

“Understood.” Bren said.

“Good. Time is short and I need to go but I will see you tomorrow to catch up. You’ll be expected to speak.” There was a final click as Shawn ended communications. Bren looked up from the receiver he held to see his aishiid huddled around an earpiece, following the Mosphei conversation as best they could in bits and pieces. 

“We must leave tonight.” Jago said, looking to Bren. “We will fly to the coast and use the Aiji’s boat. 

“It will be more secure than than _ Later Days _.” Tano agreed.

Bren nodded in a human fashion, still caught up in Shawn’s words. 

“A note, nandiim.” He said, raising a hand. “While I can’t find fault with the ceremony itself, the conversation did leave me with the impression that this might not be as simple as it seems.”

“You will wear the vest then.” Banichi said and Bren managed to refrain from a very undignified scowl, even in this intimate company. 

There was a flurry of motion. Jago stood up first and herded Bren back to the door. “There are preparations to take care of and you must change and eat.” She said, briefly letting her large hand skim the corner of his cheek as she brush back a blonde lock that had fallen loose from his que in the night. Being an Ateva woman, Jago had to look down a good foot or so to meet Bren's gaze but she never seemed to mind. 

“We will talk to the Aiji while you do these things, Bren-ji. He will expect the informality given the circumstances.” She paused with her hand lingering at his hair, cupping the side of his head. “Man’chi is not broken.” She said, searching his eyes.

“Man’chi is not broken.” Bren repeated, moving his right hand to form the symbol for _ aishiid_. A unit. Together. 

They may not fully understand what the other had to offer emotionally but they did understand that on both sides it was a precious gift. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit shorter than the last chapter but hopefully you can tell that something is cooking ( •̀ᴗ•́ )و ̑̑
> 
> Edited: Combed through for more spelling mistakes. Thanks to 4readsalot for helping me with a timeline/numbers issue
> 
> Ps. This is my first fanfic ever and I don't have a beta so if you see any mistakes you want to point out or simply want to offer words of encouragement, please leave a comment or send me a message over on tumblr <3
> 
> https://i-drive-a-nii-san.tumblr.com/


	3. Chapter 3: The Journey

It was late afternoon by the time Bren was cleansed, dressed, and packed. The yellowing light shone through the apartment windows, throwing Bren into sharp relief as he collected his notes for tomorrow’s service and placed them into a worn laptop case. With his papers in order and briefcase in hand, the Paidhi wandered back into the hallway in search of his aishiid. 

All four atevi were gathered in the foyer, surrounded by large black canvas bags stacked in neat piles. It was a fairly common sight and Bren was used to traveling with an extravagant amount of baggage. The Paidhi's office made it so that he must always have a full wardrobe on hand, it could cause great upset if the Paidhi-aiji were to show up inappropriately attired no matter how last minute the invite. In this particular case, however, Bren was confident that the majority of the bags that had been accumulating over the course of the day had more to do with his security’s rather impressive working guild arsenal; which Bren could guess meant an intimidating amount of firearms, explosives, and various spyware gadgets.

“Nandiim.” He said as he approached. Banichi straightened slowly at the address and turned towards Bren. His senior bodyguard had two duffles strapped to his back, the straps criss-crossing over Banichi's broad chest adding to his already impressive silhouette, and a third elongated bag that looked suspiciously like a canvas rifle case was grasped in his non-dominant hand. 

“Bren-ji, we are heading to the plane now. Have you eaten?” Banichi asked. It was an odd question, coming from his senior most bodyguard, Bren thought. One would think Banichi had other things to worry about at the moment, given how little time his security had to plan this trip, and odder still that Banichi felt he had to ask in the first place.

“Ah-” Bren stopped himself mid affirmation. Now that he gave it some thought, he wasn’t entirely sure if he _had_ eaten. Surely at some point in the day he must have? 

It was Jago who pursed her lips and spoke next, obviously taking Bren’s hesitation as an answer. “Come, Bren-ji. You cannot offend our good cook Bindanda like this, he has spent the day making food for you.” She said. “We will meet up with the others after you have eaten.”

Jago shepherded him away by the arm as the others made their way out the front door, all three laden with baggage. The Paidhi had no dignity left it seemed, as Bren let himself be steered towards the kitchens. 

“There are meat pies left over from lunch and I believe that you enjoy this particular seasonal meat.” She continued. That was a small blessing. As an associate of the Aiji himself, the paidhi was expected to maintain a Kabeu household. Which, in terms of food, meant no out of season hunting, no rearing for food, and no hunting in excess to stock up on game. Bren didn’t quite mind that Kabeu dictated the number of flowers in his apartment or the location and nature of his wall hangings, he even had a profound respect for the beauty and sustainable practicality of Kabeu food teachings, but that did not change the fact that he found most seasonal meats unsettling to a human stomach. His usual recourse was fish, a dish which could be eaten in every season and had quickly became the sole game product Atevi in space consumed, thanks to Lord Geigi’s genius self selection fish tank. Bren liked fish, had lived off it for years, but having a savory red meat every once and a while was a pleasant change of pace and he found himself almost looking forward to the thought of Bindanda's warm cooking.

In short order Jago had him fed and back in the apartment foyer with a half eaten meat pie wrapped up and shoved into his jacket pocket. 

“Tano and Algini are waiting with the plane.” Banichi said as he came back in through the front door, hands empty of bags. “They have secured the craft and are ready for us to leave immediately.”

That was fine, Bren thought. Nothing he hadn’t done a million times before. He just had to walk out the door and trust his aishiid to maneuver him from destination to destination unharmed, which they always seemed to do seamlessly and professionally even during low risk outings like this one. No doubt the pilot was one of Tabini’s or better yet, maybe Algini was planning on operating the plane himself and eliminating all outside variables completely.

But for as simple as it should have been, Bren found himself hesitating at the threshold, causing the group of three to lurch to an undignified halt in the middle of the doorway. He spared an apologetic glance at Banichi and Jago, having their charge stop half in half out of a room was most likely a security nightmare but Bren truly hadn’t imagined he would run into difficulty. It was just a flat piece of wood, nothing physically stopping him, but there was something in the paidhi’s chest that tugged painfully at the thought of stepping out of his apartment and back into- well, back into the real world. A place he wasn’t very much fond of at the moment. 

The heavy weight of a large warm hand rose up to skim Bren's back and press gently between his shoulder blades. It guided him forward and just like that he was over the threshold and out of the apartment.

Walking down the public hallway was strange, he felt heavy and sluggish as if sticky tendrils of sadness were trying to pull him back into the apartment. It was hard not to think of Toby during the in between moments of their walk but the warm hand stayed at his back keeping him tethered. Banichi, Bren thought, guiding him through the hallways. On another occasion Bren would have been profoundly touched. This wasn’t a casual gesture for Atevi and, besides Jago, Bren was fairly certain his security only really made physical contact when they had to bodily haul him to the ground during active fire or pull him along when his human legs weren’t fast enough to outpace atevi pursuers. It was always life or death. Though maybe in a certain sense, this too was life or death in their eyes.

Bren scoffed quietly at himself. He was growing maudlin, in the way a man with too many regrets and a glass of bourbon could get late at night. Still, the hand never left his back and soon the three of them were out on the tarmac.

Tano was waiting at the top of a metal airstair which was attached to a small jet, baring Tabini’s crest and the Ragi colors. He stood at the open aircraft door, the wind whipping his long black braid out behind him, as he beckoned them inside the plane. 

The interior was nice, a combination of embroidered fabrics and metal decorations not seen on Mospherain transport, but it felt overly large for just five people and an armory’s worth of guns. Bren took a seat next to a small oval window and pulled out his laptop along with a pile of paper notes, hastily written in a jumbled code of Ragi Atev' and Mospheii shorthand. He managed to type up about three sentences before sitting back and dropping his chin onto his fist, staring at the blinking cursor. He tried to formulate the next sentence but it was like his brain was swimming through molasses. The rhythm of the cursor awaiting input was hypnotic and Bren finally closed his eyes, letting himself drift.

The sun had long since set, purple and red hues illuminating the interior in an ethereal glow. Jago had sat and watched the clouds change colors with him for a time before following Banichi into the cockpit to confer with Tano and Algini. Conspiring, the lot of them. No doubt discussing the paidhi’s situation and how best to keep a small stubborn human out of trouble while meeting the Presidenta in open waters. Mospheria didn’t have legalised assassination like the mainland did, but even so Tyres had been shot at by his own constituency the last time the two of them had been on a podium together. Bren’s security had not been amused.

“We are landing.” A low voice brought him out of his reverie. Bren blinked and lifted his head off his fist. His laptop and notes were no longer in front of him, someone must have returned them to the briefcase and stowed them in a mesh pocket at his side. He looked over to his left towards the voice. Jago was sitting quietly in the seat next to him and Banichi was standing in the aisle, his elbow braced on a headrest as he leaned over to address Bren. 

“We have sandwiches if you wish, Bren-ji, but if we are to arrive at the provided coordinates by tomorrow morning we must board the Aiji’s boat immediately. There will be no time for dinner or rest at the coastal estate, but you may rest on the boat.” 

Bren looked over at Jago once more and noticed her abnormally relaxed posture. Her arms were crossed and her head was down, chin resting on her leather covered chest. She must be asleep, he realized, most likely preparing to man the ship through the night and let Algini rest. 

“Thank you Banichi-ji.” Bren murmured, trying to be mindful of Jago and her naturally keen Atevi hearing. “Please, help yourself to the sandwiches and bring some to Tano and Algini as well. I do not feel hungry at the moment.”

Banichi gave a slight inclination of his head before quietly straightening and removing his arm from Jago’s chair.

“Banichi.” Bren spoke again, a little louder this time. “And please rest a little yourself when you can.” For a moment, Bren thought he could see a softening around Banichi’s eyes as the large man looked back at him. Unblinking.

“Yes.” He acknowledged simply, that blunt Ragi affirmative, before turning and heading toward the front of the plane. Bren sighed, he knew then that Banichi most likely wouldn’t.

There was a time in the beginning when Bren had questioned if his bodyguard ever slept. He knew better now, Bren thought, as he looked over Jago’s sleeping figure. She was gorgeous and strong and somehow still imposing even while slumped forward in sleep, but most of all she was incredibly good hearted. It had been strange at first, trying to reconcile a professional killer with the quiet but profoundly _ good _ ateva that Jago was. But somehow he’d managed and her loved her very much, in the human way of things. He wasn’t quite sure what he would do without her, or without Banichi, Tano, and Algini for that matter.

Bren had the sudden urge to take her hand in his and hold it. To trace his fingers over her strong calluses, skin thickened from decades of weapons handling and years of protecting his life. He didn’t though. Wasn’t going to bother her during much needed sleep and wasn’t going to risk startling a sleeping assassin. He closed his eyes again, comfortably aware of her warmth, and not bothering to reopen his laptop. The paidhi would be getting no work done this trip it seemed.

He could feel it when the plane started to descend, a sort of lurch in his stomach as Algini, or maybe Tano, started to bring the plane down. They should have half an hour or so now before landing. Enough time to go back to drifting.

  * -

Bren woke again with a jolt as the landing gear released, causing a thunk that rumbled through the back of the plane. He looked to the aisle seat and Jago was gone. With a grimace he belted down into his seat and shifted to look out the window instead, watching as the flicker of a scattered lights rapidly grew larger. It was hard to make out where the runway ended and the sea began. The strip was much darker than any runway on the human enclave would be at this time of night but Atevi could see near perfectly in the dark. The lack of light fixtures accomplished nothing other than wracking his poor nightblind human nerves. Bren would have to trust Algini not to fly them straight into the ocean, the same way he trusted his exasperated aishiid every night to tug him by his sleeves this way and that while he fumbled his way through the dark trying not to walk into anything particularly dangerous. 

The plane touched down with a muted series of thumps and in short order Bren collected his briefcase and was met at the front of the plane by Tano, who threw a large black jacket over Bren’s head and shoulders to cover up the paidhi’s luminescent whites. 

“Quickly, Bren-ji” He said. “Jago has secured a van for us. We will be driving to the docks immediately. Please, keep your head down.”

Well, that was never a good thing to hear. 

He made his way off the plane and down the large rickety metal stairs with Tano close behind, taking care not to misstep. As he reached the bottom step, Jago pulled up in a large security van and Banichi came out from the underbelly of the plane with an array of bags strapped to his person. His security opened the side door and with a practiced push and shove hoisted Bren’s small frame into the van. 

“Is there trouble, nandi?” Bren managed, righting himself on the van’s seat and poking his head out from under Tano’s jacket. 

“A small disturbance in the Mauriid.” Banichi said, looking back from the passenger seat. “It is of no concern, the Aiji is dealing with it.”

That was certainly cause for concern.

“It is minor, Bren-ji” Jago said as she turned the van around, pausing only to let Algini jump in through the back. “Only left over restlessness from last year’s shift in man’chi. You are not needed to resolve this.”

“We are just exercising caution because of the general unrest in the region and our inability to secure such a large and open area. There is no specific threat.” Algini spoke quietly from behind Bren, making the paidhi jump. 

“Are you sure I am not needed, nandi? I can contact Manchigi if there are problems in the area. Another disturbance might upset the Edi people and these associations between the southern islands are too new and fragile.”

“You are not needed, Bren-ji.” Banichi pronounced, facing forward again and loosely holding onto the passenger seat’s grab handle. 

Well then, that was that. His aishiid held firm. Bren almost felt disappointment at the thought. He felt like he lost a chance to throw himself back into work and do something productive. A chance to focus on something… else. Avoidance. That's what that was. It was an uncomfortable thought, but it was hard for Bren to deny. For once his family was coming before work, whether it was an order from Tabini himself or the machinations of his own aishiid it was obvious they had a clear mission in mind and Bren wasn’t sure how he felt about it all. He sighed and shifted to hand Tano back the jacket only to have a hand grab at his cuff lace and still him. 

“Keep it until we are on the boat for the night, Bren-ji.” Tano said. “It will be easier and I do not need it.” 

And so Bren did. He settled back in his seat, fingers twining into the excess worn leather, resisting the urge to pull his feet up underneath him and curl into the soft warmth of Tano’s jacket. 

He didn’t quite sleep again but he was also not wholly present for the short drive. They were going to the ocean and just like leaving the apartment, the ocean was another hurdle Bren hadn’t realized existed until he was upon it. The sea was Toby’s life, lived and died by it, and he wasn't ready to go there. 

Bren had been with Toby when he had first learned to sail. The two of them would run to the docks after school and borrow Mrs. Gomez’s small jboat. Two children eagerly stripping down to undershirts and jumping in to race around the harbor until the harbor master sent them home for speeding or the fishermen came in at sunset. They hadn’t ventured out into the open waters until a couple years later. It had taken them hours to get back in, tacking against the wind the whole time, and their mother had been absolutely furious. But Bren would always remember the way Toby had laughed, doubled over and wheezing while their mother had yelled. He always claimed the subsequent grounding had been well worth it.

This ocean held memories and the closer they got to it the larger this indescribable feeling pulsing through Bren became. It was too complex and multifaceted for him to examine closely but it was growing, liking the rising tide come to entomb him next to his brother. 

Maudlin. He was so very maudlin today.

The ride along the coast line was over in minutes. The darkness was too thick for a human to properly see the ocean but, as Jago parked and Tano threw open the side door, the salty brine in the air was unmistakable and Bren knew they had arrived. He pulled Tano’s jacket around his shoulders, not bothering to duck his head under again, and followed his security out of the van. 

A lone ateva stood at the docks and Bren watched as Jago made her way to the man, handing him the van keys and exchanging a few hushed words. The boat was already at the dock and in a matter of minutes Bren, the baggage, and his bodyguard were aboard. Tano and Algini immediately went below decks to secure the boat while Banichi went inside the cabin to stand at the helm. Bren watched Jago untied the boat before shoving out and jumping on with rope in hand. Soon the engines were started and they were making headway.

He glanced around the deck, noting the tied down bundles. His security had probably called ahead to ensure that the boat was loaded with enough rations and fuel for the trip, not wanting to waste the time themselves upon arrival. The ateva who had taken care of the boat and driven the van away was most likely one of Tabini’s junior security and chances were he had already worked with Bren’s aishiid on a number of occasions and had no issue accommodating their requests. 

“There is bedding made up for you if you wish, Bren-ji.” Tano indicated, as he and Algini emerged from below. He was still jacket-less and clad only in short sleeved guild blacks. It was too little clothing in Bren's estimation, especially now that the sun had set and temperature dropped.

“Thank you, Tano-ji. You and Algini rest, I will join you in a bit.” He said, handing over the jacket with some reluctance.

He’d hugged Tano once, years ago before leaving him and Algini to go into deep space. It was a very human gesture, extremely embarrassing by Atevi standards, but he didn’t regret it and something in Bren wanted to hug the man now. It had to do with the way the ship rocked with the waves. It left Bren feeling untethered and longing for that steadying contact, but he couldn’t do that to poor Tano, young and earnest and the junior most member of his aishiid’s junior most partnership. Nor would Bren dare take the liberty with Algini.

There was no need to worry either of them with seemingly erratic behavior and the last thing he needed was to give half his aishiid the wrong impression.

In all honesty, Bren still did not understand how he and Jago had ended up together in the way that they were. Atevi intimacy, both sexual and platonic, completely eluded him. He had no concept of if this was a normal liaison for Atevi or something scandalous and so Bren simply excused himself with out comment and turned toward the bow of the ship to look out into inky blackness. 

The night was calm but the chop of the boat’s bow cutting through waves misted salty ice water across his face. He breathed in deeply, savoring the cool air as it expanded in his lungs and left a crisp feeling tingling in his chest. This too was a sort of grounding, he guessed. But it was strange. Never had Bren felt so comforted and so hurt by the very same thing. The familiar smells and sensations made it so that, if he closed his eyes, he could almost feel the ghost of Toby’s presence standing by his side.

“Your eyes-” Bren’s eyes snapped open as he found Jago by his side, looking down at him. “Your eyes are leaking again.” She said as she reached out to wipe at the tears on his face, a physiological impossibility for Atevi.

“I am afraid it is becoming something of a habit.” He tried to smile ruefully, taking her hand in his. Jago he did hug. Burying his face against her sternum he slid his arms up around her waist and under her jacket. 

“It is.” She replied simply and without an ounce of condemnation. “For you, Bren-ji, I think the pain of Toby-nandi’s death will last a long time. Yes?”

“Yes.” He echoed, wondering if Jago would understand it if he said _ forever _. 

Not for the first time Bren looked at her and wondered about the rest of her and Banichi’s family. He wondered if they were close and if their separation caused pain? He wondered, had she also lost someone? He had seen Banichi after he'd killed a former classmate, it had been a painful night and a great upset for the stoic man so there must be some thread of commonality between them, even in such emotionally driven things as loss.

“I must go to the cabin with Banichi. Sleep.” She ordered, before she carefully detangled his arms and left him with only a light squeeze of the wrist. Alone now, Bren made his way to the narrow steps that led into the underbelly of the ship. Tano and Algini were already bedded down, feet facing him, with an empty pallet in between. He caught the reflective yellow glimmer of an atevi eye as it cracking open, disturbed by the noise despite Bren's best efforts to be as quiet as possible. But the eye closed again with little fuss as Algini rustled in his sheets, turning over slightly. It was rare that Bren saw the most mysterious member of his aishiid asleep. Rarer still for him to sleep in such close quarters, give or take cat naps on various buses or planes, but it had been becoming more and more frequent once Algini had declared man’chi to the Paighi-aiji and Bren was grateful for another excuse to be close to someone.

He eyed the bulkhead behind the bed pallets. He was certain there was a bathroom through there and knew he should take the chance to wash up and change but the motivation just wasn’t there. Instead he shrugged out of his jacket and vest, placing them carefully on a nearby chair and kicked off his boots. This would be the second night in a row that Bren fell asleep in his clothes but he couldn’t be moved to care. He slid into the blankets and was silently thankful for the warmth of the two large atevi bodies bracketing him.

  * -

Bren woke face down on his pillow, spine twisted at a weird angle. Unsurprisingly he was alone. He sat up groggily, unsure of the time, but he could just make out a sliver of light filtering under the door at the top of the stairs. It was most likely morning then. 

He must have made noise because shortly after awakening Tano came down with a dark bundle of clothes in his arms.

“Good morning, Bren-ji. We are about an hour away from the coordinates and Jago has made radio contact with the Presidenta's ship. I brought your clothes.” Tano carefully set the bundle in Bren’s lap and opened it to reveal a navy blue Mospherain sweater. It was one of the thickly knit turtlenecks Toby had lent him years ago. Bren had never returned it despite the fact the paidhi didn’t wear human style clothes anymore, not even during his extended stay on the island following the peace accord with the Kyo. Even then and surrounded by humans it it had been Atevi dress all the way.

Bren ran a hand over the course wool and looked up at Tano questioningly.

“Jasi-ji made the suggestion that you wear something of Toby-nandi’s. He said it would be in keeping with human custom.” Tano supplied quietly, not bothering to hide his overly familiar nickname for the ship’s captain.

_ Jase? _ Bren blinked. When had his aishiid had time to call Jase? He was horrified to think what they had asked of the captain or worse still what Jase had tried to explain. He looked back down at the sweater in his hands. The claim of human custom was debatable. In reality, ship and planet life had been apart for so long that very little of their more specific traditions remained the same. This in particular was something Bren had never heard of growing up on the island. He assumed Jase meant small pins or jewelry, given that shipboard clothing was largely uniform, but with some thought Bren could see how it was an appealing sentiment. He ran his hands over the sweater again. It was more than a little informal for a public appearance but the service wasn’t likely to make the news, at least on the Atevi side of things, and the Mospherain’s weren't exactly known for their formality. Maybe this once Jase was onto something. Maybe, in the face of all he's lost, it would do the Paidhi-aiji good to revisit his human roots as Mr.Cameron, maker of dictionaries. He should really call the man, see if he couldn't get Jase down planet side for another of those fishing trips the kid dreamed of.

“Thank you, Tano. This was very kind.” He murmured, pulling more fabric aside to reveal a simple undershirt and black pants instead of his usual white or beige. 

“Jasi-ji also said you would prefer to wear black, I have a brought a black ribbon as well. It is the color of the Lord of the Heavens so it is still in keeping with your offices and I will help you braid it into your hair when you have changed. Would you like assistance?” Tano asked as Bren got up in search of the bathroom.

“Not for human clothing, Tano-ji. With this I can manage just fine.” Bren absently raised a hand to wave him off, letting himself smile a bit at Tano’s ministrations. "Thank you for your offer."

The bathroom was small and simple but it had an array of soaps and scrubs laid out. Bren scrubbed at his face and gave himself a cursory wipe down with a damp cloth. It would have to do for now, though he was rapidly becoming in dire need of a proper shower. He scrubbed at his teeth with a finger and some paste before spitting out a mouthful of water and in minutes he was dressed. It was quick and a little sloppy and Bren felt naked without the atevi high collars and intricate lace cuffs. However, there was still the weight of his bullet proof vest underneath Toby’s sweater and that familiarity eased him. He placed a hand over his middle standing there and feeling the extra bulk, it hid rather well underneath the sweeter, looking more like a few extra pounds put on by the sedentary life of a diplomacy than anything even vaguely combat related.

Tano was waiting outside the bathroom just where Bren had left him. He came over with a silky black ribbon in one hand and a fine toothed comb in the other and the paidhi simply turned around to give his back to the man. Tano had enough height to him that he could easily braid the top of Bren’s head without anyone needing to sit down. It was a rather strange yet convenient perk of being the same size as an Atevi nine year old.

Bren felt his hair being let down and then deft fingers combing through the locks that were bent out of shape from his perpetual braid. Tano combed his hair out gently before he started to gather up the strands around his temples and began to plate, skillfully weaving the white and black ribbons in as he went. If Bren’s dress was overly casual surely with this intricacy, his ribbons of office were anything but. 

With a finishing touch the two climbed topside and Bren didn’t bother fetching his briefcase, knowing that he hadn’t compiled anything of substance for the ceremony anyway. It was a nice and calming sort of morning Bren noted as they ventured out to the fresh open air, but that didn’t stop the immediate sense of dislocation he felt when he looked portward and saw a large Mospherian naval ship anchored less than a 1000 meters away.

“The water is calm this morning.” Jago said from the open door of the cabin, with no preamble. “The Presidenta has sent his ship's tender over to take us to the Mospherian ship where they will hoist us up.” She set down a small hand radio and walked over to the two of them, producing one of Bindanda’s sandwiches and pressing it into Bren’s hand. He still didn’t have much of an appetite but he diligently unwrapped a corner and nibbled, facing away from the large ship and trying hard not to focus on anything in particular. 

Banichi and Algini emerged from the cabin then.

“I will be staying on the ship to secure transport.” Algini spoke as he looked over at Tano, who was still standing by Bren's elbow. “Tano will accompany the rest of you to the Mospherain ship and ensure that you have a clear and safe method of getting back to me should something go wrong.”

“Yes.” Tano and Jago said in near perfect unison.

Banichi turned toward Algini then. “We will keep you apprised through radio and will be back before sunset.” He said and Bren wondered, not for the first time, about that particular power dynamic. Banichi was the senior partner of the senior most partner ship, making him the highest ranking in the group. Algini, however, had admitted to holding a selective and high ranking position in the Assassin's guild itself though it seemed he deferred to Banichi for the most part. Bren would guess that not even Algini’s junior partner, Tano, knew exactly how highly ranked Algini was in the guild. 

“Bren-ji, come.” Jago’s voice called. She and Tano were already preparing to board what looked to be a Mospheiran dingy and Bren followed, grasping the guard railing to steady himself as he stepped over into the smaller boat. A very young human man with dark skin and short cropped hair, kept tightly under the wide brim of a sailing hat, sat near a small motorized rudder. He was quickly dwarfed by the atevi climbing onto the boat and Bren watched as his eyes widened in a moment of panic. Most humans hadn't seen an ateva in person, just like most ateva had never seen a human in person until Bren took office. Chances were that all this man knew of atevi was gleaned from TV clips and photos, neither of which truly did them any justice.

Between Tyers, Tabini, Jase, and himself the human atevi interface continued to grow at a rapid pace but for decades and even centuries prior to Bren's appointment there wasn't a human on the planet who was allowed to speak atev' out loud. All communications were kept strictly to writing and full immersion into the language or culture was expressly forbidden in some misguided attempt to prevent a second War of the Landing.

Bren's predecessor, Wilson-paidhi, was a man whose greatest fear was atevi achieving technological parody. Now, merely a decade later, atevi were in space and, in places like the station, atevi and humans had successfully and completely integrated. 

The island of Mospheira and its people were a bit farther behind.

Bren took that moment to break the silence.

"Hello." He said offering up his hand to the man and making a conscious effort to smile now that he was in the presence of a human. He had to be warm and most of all _friendly; a_ word that, much like love, had started a war. "I'm Bren Cameron, good to meet you."

The crewman took his hand. He shot a sideways glance at Bren's security, lingering on Banichi's gun holster before stammering, "Uh- I. Yes. I know who you are Mr. Cameron, it's an honor. Sir. I'm Andy- uh- Andy Glosk." 

"Thank you for coming all this way to pick up myself and my security." Bren gestured to where the atevi sat, folded over on themselves in an effort to fit into the small human craft. He purposefully shifted over to the side so that he could politely introduce them, keeping a veneer of civility and calmness over the situation. 

"Nandi, this young man has introduced himself as Andy Glosk." He said switching to ragi atev' as he addressed his aishiid. "One believes this is his first meeting with atevi and he is a little nervous." 

"Good Morning, Andii-nandi. Thank you for your assistance in facilitating the paidhi-aiji's meeting with your Presidenta." Jago said, nodding her head in a polite semblance of a bow. Tano nodded next to her.

"My security greets you and thanks you for your assistance today." Bren translated loosely. He watched as Andy turned to face his aishiid, with a steadying breath he bowed and then spoke in halting, heavily accented, _ragi_.

"o-one - one is grateful to make your acquaintance, Nandi." He spoke in the adult language, laden with numerical infelicities. It would have been dangerous if he was addressing the wrong ateva but this was Bren's aishiid and they weren't counters nor was it their first time dealing with a young and maybe a little brash human man. Bren would like to think, however, that _he_ had had a much better command of the language when he first came to the mainland and met Banichi and Jago.

He clapped his hand on Andy's shoulder, a good kid. "Then let's head out, I am sure President Tyers is waiting."

"Yes, sir!" Andy said firmly, starting up the motor. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Bren kept having all the Big Feels and traveling took longer than expected but WE HAVE ARRIVED! Plot will definitely happen in the next chapter... and since I'm posting the two chapters together I think that's kind of excusable? XD


	4. Chapter 4: The Exchange

“Bren, it’s good to see you.” Shawn proclaimed, grabbing the paidhi’s hand in a solid shake and pulling him in, to brusquely clap his shoulders. “Damn sorry about Toby, you know that. We’re all damn sorry.”

Bren wasn’t quite sure what to say to that, nothing really seemed adequate. “Ya.” He said softly, looking away from Shawn for a moment. 

The President sighed and pulled him over so that they could bow their heads together for a whispered, semi private, conversation. Bren spared a glance over at where the camera crew was setting up over on the starboard side of the large ship deck. There was a small makeshift platform being built with a podium and a narrow cloth runner bearing the presidential seal. No one seemed to be paying the two leaders much attention besides a small cluster of men and women in black suits and dark sunglasses, who were standing at ease a couple feet behind the president and eyeing the atevi nervously over Bren’s shoulder.

“Listen, I hate to do this now but you and I both know I didn’t call you onto this boat for a news stunt.” 

“I had guessed as much.” Bren admitted, closing his eyes briefly. It was the nature of the job really, always had been. Every personal inch of his life was subject to government needs and wants, something that Toby had always hated with a passion.

“Toby’s death wasn’t an accident, Bren.” Shawn said bluntly. “The heritage party lost big money after you deposed their Station Master and the loss of corporate monopolies in space is leading to more people falling victim to their party’s scare tactics, claiming atevi economic control. Hanks Sr. is trying to claim atevi favoritism and that your office has been intentionally undermining his interests in an effort to cripple the human economy. It’s working and their support is growing, becoming militant.”

“And the reunioners?” Bren asked, growing alarmed. He had, in all honesty, suspected that Toby’s death had been no accident but he hadn't even begun to imagine how extensive the discord had become. Not only was the heritage party anti-atevi, they were extremely anti-space folk, blaming the pilots guild of a century ago for the treatment of their ancestors after they got lost in space and mutinied. Holding fast to that bitterness when it came to their stationer descendents. It made Bren worry for the reunion station’s previous inhabitants, who had only just been integrated planet side this year. 

“They are safe. New identities, heavy security detail, the works. Those kids the Aiji’s son took an interest in too.” He assured Bren. “Which is why we think they have been displacing, lashing out at adjacent more easily accessible targets like the foreign affairs department, exchange families, even relatives of random government workers. We’re trying to lock it down as best we can but the island’s never had to deal with such wide spread outbursts of violence and we just don’t have the resources to mobilize like we’d need to.” 

Bren clenched and unclenched his fists as he listened to the president’s debrief. He’d obviously been disconnected from the island for too long and by gods he was going to _ put Gaylord Hanks in the ground _. That man and his daughter, now deceased, had a habit of getting a lot of people killed in a short amount of time.

“We have Toby’s ex wife, Jill, and their daughter in witness protection but the son-”

“_ Lucas _?!” Bren cut him off incredulously, not understanding what trouble his young nephew could have possible gotten into.

“He’s been slipping our security and provoking pockets of heritage supporters.”

“He’s TWELVE Shawn! He’s not provoking anyone!” 

“He’s begun coding his own extremist sites, just simple html, but the kid’s got brains on him. It took us ages to link them back to him. He can’t stay on the island, Bren. Not after what happened to his father. He’s angry and he has every right to be, but he’s not dealing and he’s putting the rest of your family in danger.”

“So you’re going to what? Ship a child up to the station to keep him out of the way until things cool down?” It was hard to believe, the last time Bren had seen Lucas the kid was 6 maybe 7 and happily reciting facts about old earth movies like ‘Godzilla’. Shawn shook his head.

“I’m going to ship him off_ to you _, Cameron. You’re his uncle and don’t think for a second I’m not fully aware that your security has the power to shut this delinquency down and keep him out of trouble while still planet side. He’s a kid, he’s angry, and this will blow over. I just need him to survive to see it and I can’t guarantee that with my resources if he’s going to fight us. We already lost Toby, least I can do is not get his son killed but we’re stretched too thin.” 

Bren straightened, pulling away from Shawn and bringing a hand up to tap at his lower lip. His other arm wrapped tightly around his middle, grasping at his elbow. He was irrationally irritated with Shawn for dumping this on him, here and now while he was trapped, but a bigger more logical part of him understood the necessity and was growing extremely concerned for Lucas.

He paced a step or two, his aishiid was tense and looking near ready to mobilize themselves. They could easily read his body language, even from a distance, and might have even been able to hear bits and pieces of the fervent conversation. Bren took a breath, consciously relaxing his shoulders and letting his hands fall down to his sides, clasping them in a neutral hold behind his back. 

“I can’t just take another human back to the mainland with me. It’s against the treaty.” He reasoned, but even Shawn could see it wasn’t a true protest.

“Maybe if this was 5...10 years ago, but we both know the Aiji won’t say no if you do and, considering the circumstances and the help Mospheria has been to him during the coup, he won’t begrudge you not asking permission either.” It was a reasonable statement, and most likely true, Bren could admit that. The rule regulating human presence on the mainland had been lax ever since Bren had come back from space to find an atevi coup had thrown the world into chaos. Priorities shifted and it became a matter of Mospheria getting resources to what was left of Tabini’s supporters, a ruler whom the humans had a vested interest in keeping in power. Toby had been one of the humans making discreet journeys across the straits, ferrying messages and ammunition, and on multiple occasions Tabini let his brother stay on the mainland for weeks, even after the fighting had ceased. Barb and some of the reunion children as well. 

“Are we going to be picking him up after the service? I am not sure how happy my security will be with an unplanned trip to the island.” He asked and Shawn smiled. The man could recognize a concession when he heard one.

“Lucas is here.” He said, gesturing towards their feet. “Below decks. We’re trying to keep him away from media presence at the moment.” 

_ What? _ Bren blinked. He’s been sandbagged! Maneuvered this way and that with little forewarning because the phone were bugged. It was something he expected of Tabini but not Shawn. Had Mospheria really been that worried about getting Lucas off the island discreetly, that sure of Bren’s agreement? 

“Bren-ji.” Jago’s voice came from behind him, soft but meaningful. Out of his whole aishiid, Jago was most likely to follow along with the majority of the mospheii conversation. Either she had heard something she didn’t like or, more likely, his aishiid had simply had enough of watching the tense conversation from a distance and intended to politely, but firmly, get some answers.

“No imminent danger, nandi, but there is a slight adjustment to plans. It seems we are going to be taking in my nephew for a short while. 

“Bren-” Shawn interrupted, tapping at a see through silicone earpiece “Sorry, but I just got called away. I’ll have security bring him up to you. He’s packed. Make whatever introductions and plans you need, cameras roll in about an hour and then we’ll get you both out of here before supper. The faster this hand off goes the better.” He clapped Bren on the shoulder one last time and turned to make his way towards the platform, rapidly disappearing into a sea of converging black suits and crewmen. 

It took only a few minutes to brief his security on the conversation.

“It is Mashimi.” Banichi commented. “Television. Is it not?” 

“It does seem like it.” Bren offered. Mashimi were televised serial adaptations of old atevi plays, tragedies mostly. He had never gotten the chance to see one on the stage but in his first few years on the mainland Bren had watched plenty on television. Clicking it on before bed and watching atevi characters pulled this way and that by the invisible threads of man’chi.

Within very little time there was a high pitched wail from behind them and Bren turned to see Shawn’s security bringing a slim woman from below decks, Barb it seemed, and a young gangly boy he could only assume was Lucas. 

“Oh, Bren!” Barb cried, letting go of Lucas’ shoulders and launching herself across half the ship deck. She brought up her arms and threw herself artfully across his chest. Barb Letterman was Bren’s ex-fiance and Toby’s partner until his death. She had never quite been satisfied by either relationship, nor by her marriage to Paul Sarinson, calling Bren in the middle of the night to ask to be saved from her unhappy life, to be loved, when she had been the one who broke up with him. When she started her relationship with Toby the two of them had reached some sort of uneasy truce, for his sake, and he truly hoped she had grown. Toby had surely seen something in her but all Bren knew was that his presence brought out the worst in her. 

From the other side of the boat, one or two cameras had turned to catch Barb’s tearful flight. With the high sun glistening off her curls and tears streaming down her face it would make a near perfect clip for the evening news, that and a security nightmare considering the fact that Barb was undoubtedly supposed to be laying low with the rest of the high risk targets. He didn’t even see Jill here, no doubt forgoing a last goodbye with her youngest in favor of squirreling away in a secure location with her daughter. He hoped that coverage of the ceremony wouldn’t air until tomorrow, after the boat had safely made it back. It would do no good to sneak everyone on just to announce their presence during a vulnerable debarkation. On the other hand, if they had already planned on Lucas not headed back to the island, any information leak would only truly affected Barb, who seemed to be the only other non-news affiliated civilian on the entire ship as far as Bren could see. 

“Oh Bren, I can’t believe you came. I’ve been an absolute wreck, I tell you. A wreck.” She sobbed into his chest cupping the back of his neck in an overly intimate gesture. He grasped at her biceps, gently pulling her an inch or two away before Jago shot her. 

It wasn’t a matter of jealousy as far as Bren was aware, he still wasn’t entirely sure if they were exclusive or if Jago slept other people within Tabini’s association and he didn’t really care, but Barb hadn’t won any points with Jago over the years. From an ateva’s perspective she had thoroughly botched man’chi and could not be trusted and yet somehow, through some human reasoning, managed to stay inside Bren’s inner circle and that displeased Jago entirely. 

“I’m sorry to hear that, Barb. Truly. It’s a hard loss, anything I can do just let me know.” He said as she detached reluctantly with a sniff. “President Tyres just brought me up to speed, it sounds like an absolute mess over there. Is Jill here as well or just Lucas? I was told it was too dangerous for you.” She stopped crying at that, straightening to look at Bren with pursed her lips. 

There was a beat of silence as she stared flatly at him. There it was, he thought.

“No.” She said, and it was heated. “Some security mumbo jumbo, it wasn’t safe. They only wanted to bring Lucas, but I didn’t listen. I have _ every _ right to be here and I dare them to tell me otherwise.”

He restrained a sigh. “It’s not about rights, Barb. They probably didn’t want any civilians going unless they weren’t returning. Debarkation is a natural bottleneck and leaves you out in the open on the gangway, from what I can tell this service is more a smoke screen to get Lucas to me and soothe public anxieties. When it all cools down, we’ll have something real and you'll be there.”

“Well, anything they can do to us can’t be worse than what _ you _ put us through all these years. Death threats and crank calls, all because people were unhappy that _ you _ had done something political halfway across the globe or all the way _ in space _!!”

“They can shoot you for one, that would be worse.” He replied, a little too sharply and regretted it immediately. Emotions were running high enough as it was and losing control wasn’t productive. “Listen, Barb, I’m sorry. You know damn well that I’m sorry and if I could have done something I would have.” He finished, biting his tongue before he could say something along the lines of ‘_ but I was a little busy getting captured and tortured _.’ She was not placated.

“Truce.” He offered as he side stepped her. “It’s not the time to go a round. I’m truly sorry for what you’re going through and I look forward to hearing whatever you have to say but right now I need to go speak with my nephew.”

He moved and his aishiid moved with him, crossing the deck and approaching the young boy. He was in a casual shirt and worn blue jeans, not exactly dressed for a ceremony but there were much more important things to worry about at the moment. 

“Lucas?” Bren asked hesitantly, it had been so long since he had last visited that it wouldn’t be a surprise if the kid didn’t even recognize him. There was a strong family resemblance though, the hair, the eyes, Toby’s freckles. “Well, I’m not sure if you remember me but I am your uncle Bren. Your dad’s brother.” He said placing a hand on a small shoulder. “You’re going to be staying with me for awhile on the mainland. There is a young ateva who I’m sure would love to meet you.”

Silence. No eye contact. That was fine, he thought.

“Let me introduce you to my security. This is Banichi and his partner Jago. And this is Tano.” Bren gestured. “His partner is Algini, and he is back on our ship at the moment. They all can understand a bit of Mospheii so if you need anything and you can’t find me, they will help.”

Still, silence. Lucas didn’t bother looking up. Instead, he violently shrugged off Bren’s hand and turned to the human security. 

“I’m going down below.” He said and left immediately without waiting for a response, shoving hands into pockets and hunching his shoulders up around his ears. 

“That- could have gone better…” Bren admitted, addressing no one in particular. 

“That child’s man’chi is not to you.” Banichi broke the silence and if they were alone he might have even grimaced.

“No.” He sighed, scrapping a hand over his face. “No, I don’t believe it is.”

“Your aishiid would advise strongly against housing with those that do not have man’chi to you or the Aiji. This child is not a close association and poses an unquantifiable risk.” 

Now this was a situation hard to parse in atevi terms, they was no natural inclination to treat children any differently. An ateva was either of your association or not, and it was a dangerous distinction. Though Bren's relationship with Lucas was possibly similar to the young Caijari’s trouble bonding with his father, Tabini. It _ could _ provide a framework for an interface, but even then it wasn’t a direct parallel.

“No, no definitely no risk.” Bren shook his head. “It is alright, Nandi. He is not a stranger, he is family and a child who poses absolutely no threat to my wellbeing. Like the Aiji and the young lord, we were apart for important years of his childhood development but we are still associates or at the very least, great potential is there. In fact, given his age and Toby-nandi’s recent death, his behavior is more than expected.”

“Expected.” Banichi repeated flatly, arms crossed over his chest, obviously doubtful. Not behavior an ateva exhibited without serious and sometimes deadly consequences.

“Yes, Nandi, expected. If you cannot understand it trust in my good sense when I say that my nephew will never be a threat and should never be treated as such. Finesse, Banichi-ji. It is a difficult age and a difficult time.”

His aishiid was upset, whether at Bren himself for introducing a new variable to their job that they could not predict or at the human conflict in general, he didn’t know. He couldn’t blame them, he was upset too. Upset at the situation and the day. This wasn’t a memorial service. Well, in all technicality, it was. But emotionally it meant nothing and helped no one. It was an excuse to get a boat out here, as much as it was an excuse to contact the paidhi. All for a sleight of hand with a troubled child who Bren didn’t have the first clue how to help.

As much as he had desperately wanted to dive into work last night and avoid thinking of his brother's death, now that he was here it hurt in a way he hadn’t expected to be faced with the fact that this was not truly for Toby. Family co-opted by the government, one more time.

—

The service itself was simple; official speeches, words of remembrance, an empty coffin thrown in the sea, and solemn melancholic music to an odd count that most likely grated on atevi innate numerical sensibilities.

Bren spoke briefly following President Tyres and as the service drew to an end closing statements were made to give the news their evening soundbites and Bren realized with a minor chill of horror that he couldn't feel anything. He was disconnected emotionally from the seemingly disingenuous display and admittedly a bit bitter. It was a disgusting feeling. The hot camera lights turned off and he scanned the crowd for Toby’s son.

Bren couldn’t find him and he worried at the possibility that the child had spent the entire afternoon below decks, alone. In the face of great emotion, young minds especially needed an outlet and however disillusioned Bren was at the moment, ceremony of any kind still had it purpose. It generated familiarity and structure in a time when there was a distinct lack of both and he was sure Lucas could use some. 

“It’s done, Nandi.” He said. “One thanks you for your patience and you may tell Jase that I am well. His input was much appreciated.”

“ You may tell him yourself, Bren-ji. He has expressed his wishes for you to call him at your convenience.” Jago relayed, perhaps a bit smugly and he wondered if it had been her idea to contact their only other human association in the wake of Bren’s strangeness. 

“Well then, I will be certain to do so. Let me find Presidenta and I am sure we will be able to leave shortly. Have you received any word on the disturbance in the Mauriid? Is there anything to be aware of ?” He asked. If he was working now, he might as well continue working.

“Go speak with the Presidenta, Nandi.” Banichi scolded. 

Shawn wasn’t hard to find, still politicking by the platform while it was being deconstructed and banners folded. 

“President Tyres.” Bren said politely, “It’s about time I made my way back to the mainland. Thank you for organizing this and hosting the paidhi’s office.”

Shawn turned away from his conversation with an elderly head of state to shake Bren’s hand one last time.

“No problem at all. Mospheira is happy to have such close relations with the Aiji and his office. Please, once again, accept our condolences for your loss.” He gestured to a woman in a black suit before whispering something in her ear. “Ms. Walker will get you sent off properly. Safe travels, Mr. Cameron.” 

And they were off once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A chapter of almost all dialogue? More likely than you'd think.
> 
> Let me know what you think in the comments, things you like or I can improve. Right now I'm trying to figure out scene breaks and pacing (obviously I haven't yet hahaha) Comments and kudos give me the confidence to keep writing!
> 
> Subscribe for fail!dad trying his best with his trusty crew of aliens. <3


	5. Chapter 5: The Younger Perspective

They were tall, he thought. Taller than living beings had any right to be. 

Lucas knew he was a good height for a twelve year old, coming in at an impressive yet skinny five feet and three inches, but even still he barely reached the elbows of the smallest Ateva present. An Ateva who was currently making it her mission to shepherd him towards the waiting tender. Jago, Bren had said her name was.

Lucas did not appreciate the polite yet insistant presence at his side, pushing him closer to his _ doom_. 

The Atevi were, for lack of a better word, terrifying. For all that they were polite and gentle with him, they were the living stuff of nightmares with glowing reflective eyes in sharp alien faces and massive imposing silhouettes clad in an aggressive combination of black leather and glinting metal. They were the inspiration for almost every Mospherian horror movie before Uncle Bren had assumed office and the looming threat every tired mother used to get her rambunctious children to bed on time. 

That had certainly not been the case at The Cameron house, however. His mother a-and...his father never telling stories of rouge Atevi that stole human children and spirited them away across the straits for dinner. Lucas had heard _that_ particular one in the school yard once or twice but when he asked about it at dinner that night his elder sister had scolded him, saying only _ babies_ believed in those stories. 

And so, Lucas was not afraid, he told himself. 

He was _ not _ a baby and he was most certainly _ not _afraid.

He was _ angry _.

He was angry at the stupid president who couldn’t control his own country. He was angry at the Atevi for doing nothing while the island spiraled into turmoil and angry at that stupid crew man who wouldn’t stop fawning over his uncle as they boarded the small ship’s tender. Glosk? That was what Bren had called him? 

Lucas clenched his fingers into fists and tucked them underneath his armpits in a frustrated attempt to quell the fine tremors that he couldn’t seem to stop. The crew man was stammering out another greeting and looking at Uncle Bren as if the Paidhi did anything more important than dress in fancy clothes and talk to old people at dinner parties. Lucas couldn’t help the face he pulled at that.

Adults always acted like Uncle Bren was some sort of hero, as if he somehow saved the planet just by talking to the Kyo and Atevi. But talking wasn’t hard, Lucas did that everyday, and it was nothing like Dad did. Jad done. He was the real hero; the covert missions, the high sea storms and guns... but all anyone cared about was Bren, and Lucas hated it. 

Uncle Bren didn’t even smile anymore, his face had become as stoney and lifeless as an ateva’s. He might as well be one of them, Lucas thought, certainly anything human left was gone. There was none of that warm and fun Uncle Bren from Lucas’ memories, no hint of the man Lucas remembered from faded snippets of weekend barbecues and being picked up from kindergarten. Those visits had stopped long ago, so it shouldn’t be a surprise that his uncle had changed - hardened- but Lucas didn’t know why seeing those changes in person upset him so much. 

It was like he had expected to find something secure in his Uncle, a piece of the past that hadn’t changed when so much around him had, only to learn that it was just as alien to him as the rest of his life had become. Lucas hadn’t had time to fully process when the president’s security had gathered him up and told him he was going across the straits, but he hadn’t thought it could be much worse than the dumpster fire his life on the island had become and he hadn’t expected to feel so dislocated once he met the atevi and an uncle he couldn’t recognize. 

It was like having the rug pulled out from under him and any last flame of hope extinguished the very moment he had lifted his head and looked up into the blank and impassive eyes of his Uncle, indistinguishable from an Atevi’s. 

\--

The ride to the atevi boat was short. Lucas sat in the tender with his knees drawn up and arms wrapped around the duffle his mother packed for him the night before, as the adults around him spoke in a mixture of Ragi Atev’ and Mospheii. The tender operator, Andy Glosk, was stumbling through a couple sentences in Atev’ with the help of Uncle Bren and had a high pitched nervous sort of laugh that made Lucas want to curl in tighter on himself. The boat was small for three humans and three atevi, it felt like there wasn’t enough room to breath and every time he shifted he brushed up against something or someone new and unfamiliar and he wanted to be far far away.

They reached a mid sized boat a little after sundown and a fourth ateva came out from the ship’s cabin with enough rope in hand to secure the small tender and allow them to board. The security exited first and, after a quick goodbye to Andy, Bren was lifted out. Lucas swung his duffle bag over his shoulder and started to climb silently, avoiding looking at the crewman and dodging the hands that descended to help him up. He managed to scramble onto the deck unassisted and took a moment to brush off his jeans before straightening and hiking his duffle strap high on his shoulder once more. 

Lucas could see the exact moment his uncle decided to approach him, taking the first couple steps to bridge the physical gap between them with intent. Lucas scowled and looked up enough to glare at his uncle until Bren stopped hesitantly in his tracks, looking a bit uncertain. _ Good_. Lucas thought, feeling vindicated in the other’s discomfort. He wasn’t in the mood to talk and he didn’t want to know exactly how unrecognizable the man he would be living with had become. 

Bren wavered for a minute before a strange and unhappy look passed across his face and he diverted course to go talk to one of the smaller male atevi in hushed tones.

Lucas scowled even more as he watched. _ Coward_, he thought uncharitably, with only the slightest twinge of regret at seeing his family turn away. They hadn’t spoken since their brief introduction on the deck of the President’s boat earlier this morning. And that was exactly how Lucas wanted it, he reminded himself. Exactly what he wanted when he pushed the man away.

Lucas looked over his shoulder to see that the Mospherian tender and Glosk had already sailed away and then suddenly, as the atevi around him busied themselves with the process of pulling up anchor, he felt horribly out of place. All together, alone on an alien ship.

\--

Lucas debated hiding below decks like he had for the majority of the day, but he couldn’t get to the stairs without passing his uncle and at least two of the atevi bodyguards. They seemed like a quiet bunch but even still Lucas wanted to avoid interaction of any sort, ever since hearing about his father talking just drained him. It was the sort of tired that sleep didn’t help and he just wanted everything to stop for a moment and for everyone and everything to leave him alone, but that never happened. So instead he got angry, incited action, pushed people away in hopes that maybe he'd feel more in control. Less used up. If the only thing he could feel was anger, he wanted it. Badly. It was much better than fear or sadness... or guilt, his mind silently supplied. 

He moved to the bow of the boat and sat down alone, tucking himself up against the railing and sticking his face between two bars. He let a cheek squish up against the cold wet metal and wished he had his music. Electronics weren’t allowed to pass over the border and he was personally not allowed internet access for an indeterminate amount of time, the government having changed his citizen’s access code after they had traced incendiary content back to him. If he had his phone now though, all he wanted was to play something with a lot of guitar and a lot of drums. The night sky and dark sea were too quiet and vast and they upset him. It seemed like everything upset him.

“Hello, young Lord.” A voice came from behind him in heavily accented Mospheii. It didn’t sound anything like what you’d hear back on the island or even remotely similar to the space folk accent. Slowly Lucas turned his head and saw the dark silhouette of a large slim figure with startlingly luminescent eyes right behind him. 

He inhaled sharply and recoiled in panic, he hadn’t even heard the ateva approach. His head smacked the railing pole and a few tears pooled in his eyes. Lucas stilled, his heart was pounding from the startlement as he squinted up through wet lashes, trying to keep as still as possible.

“Are you alright?” The voice asked. Lucas thought it sounded male but atevi voices were deeper than human voices in general so it was be hard to tell with any certainty. He didn’t say anything in return, curling back up against the safety rail and looking away, hoping the darkness would hide the flush of embarrassment.

“I am Tano.” The voice spoke again as the large figure shifted and folded in on itself. The ateva moved to sit on the deck next to Lucas, but kept a respectful distance.

“I have a young-” The man called Tano paused and said something in atev’ before clunkily finishing in mospheii “-a young human person whom I know.” Was this ateva trying to say _ friend _? Lucas thought incredulously. And why should he care that Tano had a friend. 

“A human person who felt, in the past, like you do.” He continued, seeming to pick out his words very deliberately. “He did not like being on the planet and that made him angry with Bren Paidhi.” Lucas listened, growing less apprehensive and more bewildered as the ateva spoke.

“You are also angry with the Paidhi?” Tano asked, cocking his head to the side in an oddly straightforward inquisition. “You do not like being on this boat? Away from the island?”

Lucas let out a startled snort. _ Who says stuff like that _? 

“I’m not angry with the _ Paidhi _” he said, air quoting the title. “I don’t even know him. Like I care.” He said with a scoff. It was a lie of course, but he wished he truly didn’t care. A particularly harsh wind wiped across the bow and Lucas crossed his arms, tucking his cold hands back into his arms pits and bracing his shoulders sullenly. 

“Ah.” Tano said quietly. “Yes.”

Yes _ what _ ? Lucas couldn’t help but think as he grew more confused and the familiar frustration came rushing back making his eyes water once more. Atevi weren’t supposed to be nice, or at least that’s what Lucas _ thought _ Tano was trying to be right now. He felt like he didn’t understand anything or anyone around him and that made his eyes water even more. Ever since his dad went missing the world felt upside down and adults had done nothing but make things more confusing again and again. He hated it. There were times where he felt like his whole body would split apart at the seams it was all so overwhelming. He missed his dad. He wanted things to make sense again.

Lucas wasn’t proud when he started to cry, a series of small choked hiccups and violently suppressed shudders. It was not the sort of thing you did in front of a stranger, but maybe those sorts of things didn’t translate between species anyway. He wondered if atevi even could cry. Tano remained silent. 

This time the overwhelming feeling didn’t become anger, Lucas was too tired for that level of combativeness, the feeling deflated making him feel terribly alone and a little frightened on this strange ship with these strange people. A stranger in a strange land. 

He didn’t stop crying so much as he just ran out of tears and energy. When he quieted, Tano moved. The ateva slowly unhooked the duffle strap from Lucas’ grasp and stood silently taking the bag into his hands. Lucas stood too, unsure of what to do in the uncomfortable silence. 

“The human person who I know, now likes the planet very much.” Tano said softly. It was mostly likely meant to be a comfort but Lucas couldn’t quite tell. “Down the stairs there is a place to sleep. You should do so.” Before Lucas could say anything the ateva turned to walk in the direction of the stairs, bringing along the duffle.

Lucas quickly wiped his eyes, embarrassment and a sense of vulnerability taking over not that he had calmed. He scrambled after the tall ateva, not really knowing another option and sleep did sound good. At the very least Tano didn’t seem quite so intimidating anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh boy, do y'all remember being that small and just chalk full of wild emotions?
> 
> He's going to have a lot of work ahead of him, dismantling the Mospherian stereotypes and ideas he was taught since childhood. Angry Angry projecting little man!


	6. Chapter 6: The Boiling Point

Bren sat at his desk, fingers tapping out a quiet rhythmic pattern on the hard wood as he frowned, deep in thought.

It was not going well.

Or more accurately he was not _doing_ well. 

Bren had never considered himself particularly paternal. Even with the young Caijeri, their relationship had never been like _that_. In most situations of difficulty Bren differed, with much relief, to the boy’s father, Tabini. Never had he been solely responsible for the upbringing of a child and, to be painfully honest with himself, he had no idea what to do with Lucas. 

It had been about five days since they had arrived on the Main Land, reaching the shore just as the early morning light broke across the horizon. There had been a car and a plane and then some hasty introductions before everyone was shepherded to their respective rooms. His aishiid having called ahead to sort out the matter of their extra, and wholly unexpected, tenant. 

The following days were tense. 

It would have been difficult for Bren not to notice the hostile looks sent his way. The staff had certainly taken note and were not entirely sure what to make of the new and thoroughly awkward clashing loyalties in the apartment, despite Bren’s rather clunky reassurances that for humans this was perfectly normal and even to be expected. 

But that was the very problem. _ Was it expected? _Bren didn’t know. He’d grown adept at controlling and sorting through his own emotions, a necessity in his situation, but living on the Main Land had done absolutely nothing for his emotional literacy. He had tried to give his nephew space. He had seen they way Lucas’ defenses rose whenever he drew near but, as the week drew to an end, Bren saw worryingly little of the boy and watched from afar as Lucas grew increasingly short with the staff. Bren knew this would not resolve untouched and he had to admit to himself that he had failed his nephew and his staff alike by abdicating from his role as mediator in his own household the last few days.

He had convinced himself that giving Lucas space was both prudent and respectful but he had forgotten, wrapped up in his own overly convoluted information trails and political maneuverings, that his nephew was ultimately a _ child_. Not an adult who could be left alone to lick their own wounds and reemerge fit for polite company. 

This was not a matter between two adults and it was not Lucas’ job to bridge the gap between them, it was Bren’s. There was no place for Bren’s hurt feelings in the matter and it was time he admitted that his reluctance to seek out his nephew had more to do with the Paidhi’s inner turmoil than any real concern for the child’s boundaries. 

It was inexcusable, he thought, letting his hand still on the desk. Inexcusable of him to have relocated this child into his home, only to leave him to his own devices just because of a few sullen glares and hostile overtures which were so obviously a defense mechanism. This was not the example he had planned on setting.

He stood, more reflective of a decision made than a conscious choice of action. 

Jago was there in an instant, quietly slipping into the office and looking at him expectantly. His aishiid had been hovering for the most part, willing to take his assurance that the boy was no threat but unwilling to let Bren truly out of their sight, even once reaching the safety of their secured Bu-javid apartment. That in and of itself was telling and Bren regretted what the extra vigilance cost his aishiid. 

It was time to correct his lapse. 

“Jago-jii,” He said gently, realizing his tone was perhaps a bit too regretful when she stiffened and looked him over with a swift and worried eye. “I will be requesting Lucas at dinner tonight. I believe I have been remiss in not insisting on formal family dinners and though I regret the discomfort I hope that this will serve as an important first overture towards any sort of man’chi.” He waved a hand.

He couldn’t help but notice the way Jago’s lips pursed, it was obvious she did not agree with his claim of being remiss. Though it was his understanding that Aiji did in fact reach down to collect man’chi just as much as atevi reached upwards to give man’chi to their Aijiin, his behavior to reach out to his nephew could not be too out of line in that sense. He had certainly had to work for the relationships he had with his own aishiid just as fervently as he had to hold any human’s regard. 

“I will send after the young lord and inform Bindanda.” She spoke softly, following him as he made his way out of the office. “It is likely that dinner will be ready by the hour.”

“Best not to send for him, Jago-jii. Best if I go and talk with him in person.” Bren said, watching as Jago looked him over one last time and nodded sharply before walking in tense strides towards the kitchens. 

\--

He was intercepted by Algini in the hallway leading to the guest suites, a rare enough occurrence on its own but made rarer still when it became apparent that the man didn’t appear to need his attention for anything. Instead Algini silently slipped behind his left shoulder, what would normally be Jago’s spot were they out in full formation, and shadowed him. Jago had mostly likely called their security station in some upset, having had to leave for the kitchens herself and with the new knowledge that Bren would be venturing to the guest rooms alone.

It both tugged at Bren’s heart and built his resolve that his security felt the need for such watchfulness in their own home. For a supposed expert in the human atevi interface, he found himself with much to fix.

He knocked quickly and politely, a human custom not an Atevi one, before slowly inching the door open. Lucas was sprawled out on the floor, laying over a nest of twisted bed linens, pillows, and a couch cushion or two. He had a well worn journal and fountain pen which he immediately shoved into the mass of blankets as the door opened. Bren stepped in and tried not to wince at the thought of ink bleeding into ancestral comforters. 

“Hello, Lucas.” He said gently, sticking to Atev’ for simple phrases he was sure the boy could recognize. The Paidhi wasn’t teaching the language yet, but it would be crippling for his nephew to live on the Main Land for any length of time without even the most basic ability to communicate outside his aishiid. Bren had come over the straits much more prepared and still there had been times in his first year of profound isolation and panic. The thought made him even more ashamed at having left the boy to his own devices for so long, despite how much Lucas pushed him away there was no one else fit to help him. Cajeiri came to mind, likely a good match and dangerously fluent in Mospheii, but the introduction would have to be made carefully. Tabini would not be adverse to the notion but Damiri, Tabini’s wife and Cajeiri’s mother, would certainly have thoughts on yet another human association. So would Ilisidi for that matter, rare as it was for the two women to see eye to eye. It would be not impossible, however, just delicate seeing how the young lord's mother had no real claim to Cajeiri's upbringing despite remaining married to his father and all living together under one roof with her new babe in arms. It was a strange tangle of traditional and modern sensibilities that had only just seemed to be settling with the birth of Seimiro and Bren was hesitant to push in one direction or another. Still, it would be a good match.

Bren switched to Mospheii, “I was hoping to see you at dinner tonight. I know it’s something which you usually avoid but I really do think it is important for both you and the staff to acclimate.”

Lucas’ mouth hung agape for a moment before he scrunched his face up and narrowed his eyes at Bren. “Since when do you want to see me at anything?” He demanded, sounding both incredulous and indignant. 

“I have always wanted to see you, Lucas. I was under the impression that you didn’t want to see me.”

“I _ don’t _!” He snapped back.

“Well then, think of this as a very strong suggestion. It will be good to get out of your room and interact with people, if not me then the staff at least. There will mostly likely be news of Mospheira, which I’m sure you’re interested in, and in the grand scheme of things I think dinner with me is a relatively small concession for all that.” Bren paused taking in Lucas’ wide eyes. The boy seemed too taken aback to be hostile, just mostly hesitant. “It might help. Truly, Lucas, it might. I know you are in pain and I know you are upset with me and your situation but you can’t stay locked in here forever.” 

Lucas’ face scrunched further, a flush had risen about his neck and his eyes had gone just slightly glassy. Bren could see that the element of surprise had mostly worn off and his nephew had just about reached emotional critical mass. 

“_I don’t need your help and I’ll stay here for however long I want! _” He screeched, throwing the soft down pillow that had been squished under his elbows while he wrote.

“Just a thought, Lucas. It will be in about an hour, I hope to see you.” Bren said, while beating a hasty yet dignified retreat. He drew Algini with him, who had sprung into the room at the noise and projectile bed things.

“This is _ not _ to be expected.” Algini commented in a flat tone once they were down the hallway, quoting one of Bren’s most recent conversations with his aishiid about Lucas. “Atevi babies do not act this way, human children certainly do not.” 

“Human _ teenagers _ do, Gini-ji. That at least I know for certain.” Bren assured, at once amused and irritated. Though he held out hope, there was something in Lucas’ expression that could have almost been interpreted as longing. Had he really not ever asked his nephew to dinner? Bren pondered. He had certainly sent staff after the boy, every night since they’d arrived without fail, and he had just thought Lucas to be willfully stubborn but...had Bren truly been so wrapped up in his own grief and work that he hadn’t realized sending after someone and _ going to _ someone weren’t even neighbors? It was certainly a lapse on his part and he tried not to let it feel like he was failing his brother. 

Bren swallowed a lump in his throat, he was getting uncomfortably intimate with the idea of failing today.

And yet, it had only been a few days, he assured himself, a few days of mixed up signals could be put to rights with a little effort and good faith.

“Bren-ji.” Banichi’s voice met them. He had just come in from outside, wearing his full Guild blacks, not the more casual fair his aishiid prefeered for more intimate settings. “There is a matter that needs your attendance.” 

“The council can wait until after dinner, Nichi-ji, I am hoping to have my nephew attend and it will be ready in less than an hour.”

Banichi shook his head slightly. 

_ Oh_. Bren thought. _ Oh no_, that was definitely not a good sign. 

“The Aiji insists, Bren-ji. It is not a matter of the Aijiinate but rather a personal one. The Aiji-” Banichi visibly hesitated, “has found information regarding nand-Tobi’s questionable death.”

Bren froze, his mind already jumping tracks. It’s not that he hadn’t expected information to turn up, in fact most of the time he was in his office was spent hunting down leads. It gave him a sense of control, a way to desperately pull himself up when he got dangerously close to wallowing, but so far he had found nothing. There were too many small disturbances with too little to link back to anything that might serve as an explanation. 

“The nature of the information?”

More uncharacteristic hesitation. “They seem to have found a recording of Tobi-nandi’s last radio transmission before his death. Tabini-Aiji believes there to be relevant information and would like you to listen to the tape and draw up a transcript.” Banichi said.

“No!” Bren gasped out a denial before his brain could catch up, so shocked he physically took a step back. The very thought made him at once sick and filled him with an intense longing. 

He wanted nothing more than to hear his brother’s voice but to listen to his last moments and have the memory of those words overtake any sense of Toby until it was all he could think of? He would be haunted by his literal worst nightmare.

_ Have Jase do it. _ Bren wanted to say. _ Have any other Paidhiin translate and give him a transcript. _Words on paper would be so much easier to deal with. 

But could he really allow that? Could he really spurn the opportunity to hear his brother’s last words, it would seem like dishonoring Toby’s memory and his sacrifice. 

“I would like to be back for dinner, nandi.” Bren said, voice sounding a little distant and a little thin even to his own ears. At least dinner gave him something to focus on, to kick his body back into emergency functioning. 

“It is a short recording, Bren-ji” Banichi replied. 

“I see. Well, shall we go meet the Aiji?” He asked, looking from one bodyguard to another. 

“You’re Aishiid suggested you listen to the recording in our apartment security station. Tabini has agreed to wait for your written translation and commentary.” Banichi said. 

Bren almost felt embarrassed at the tidal wave of relief that washed over him. Not a repeat of last time then. He would have his space to grieve if need be, there being no need to keep up appearance with only his aishiid present. God knows, they’ve seen him at his worst more times than he could count. 

“I see.” He said again, softer. He was grateful for their intervention on his behalf and still unsure what he had done over the years to deserve such unwavering loyalty in the face of his embarrassing behavior, other than he just loved them all so much he hurt with it. 

Bren allowed himself to be ushered into the guild security room by Algini and Banichi, bracketed between their warmth. Tano was there at the monitors and Bren had a strange sort of twisted deja-vu but there were no guild members waiting other than his own security. Jago was missing but she most likely was already on her way, unlikely to be absent for an event given how worried they seemed to be. 

Like he’d predicted Jago slid into the room before Bren was even seated, silently coming up beside him and Banichi to stand next to his chair. 

Bren inclined his head, at once a greeting and a signal for Tano to go ahead. It had felt briefly like walking into a burning house. That feeling when you know an action will cause pain but you must move forward anyway so you just start walking, having accepted any consequences as inevitable. 

There was a static warble before a voice cut through. 

“-meron. 0-8-4-5-Alpha-Kilo-Sierra. Requesting assistance at coordinates-” More static as the transmitter oscillated, increasing bandwidth. 

"-umans-"

“-they have Atevi ships and they’re coming from the direction of the mainland but I haven’t seen a single Ateva-”

“-In case I don’t make it, the Aiji needs to know I foun-”

“-targeting Cajeiri, they’re not quite Heritage but they-”

Bren started to fade out a bit, the threads of his thoughts desperately trying to follow the information but he just felt so very tired.

Bren let his forehead press down on the table in front of him, pushing aside the notepad and pen, the wood was smooth and cool. He closed his eyes and just focused on listening to his brother’s voice. He would just listen, this once, and worry about the implications and translations later. Within minutes there were sounds of explosions and load bearing beams splintering. The waves grew louder and Toby raised his voice to combat the sudden roaring of bilge pumps coming over the radio. 

“I’ve got to go! I don’t think the ship will stay up much longer but _tell Tabini_! I couldn’t find out how they planned to get to the boy but something bad is in the works. I tried to come as fast as I could-” There was a horrible cracking sound and his brother broke off with a pained groan, panting. 

“-Bren, we’ve perhaps not said it enough but… I do love you brother. I do. You’ll fix whatever this is. Put it all to rights again. I've always believed that.” 

The recording cut off and the silence was deafening. Bren didn’t want to lift his head. It was likely his brother had died in the minutes following, evacuating a sinking ship surrounded by hostiles. The chances a lifeboat could have made it very far in those conditions were...remote to say the least. 

The information itself was underwhelming, just enough to point to something terribly dangerous but not enough to piece together a picture. Bren honestly wasn’t sure what Toby had expected him to be able to do. He’d be charged with fixing this, but he wasn’t even clear on what was broken. 

There was a rustle behind him as Jago shifted and he snagged her coat sleeve as it passed through his periphery. “Jago-ji, please stay a moment.” He asked, impossibly quiet but loud enough for sensitive atevi ears. 

He pulled her sleeve closer and brought his head up from the desk to bump his forehead on the rough leather that covered her forearm, fingers still tangled in the cuffs of her jacket. She stilled, an unsure hand found its way into his hair and they stayed like that just a moment as she hummed. 

“Please, Tano-ji.” Bren started. “If you could hand over the controls to me, I will sort through and get started on the work for the Aiji.” He said, letting go of Jago and straightening completely. He had to squint his eyes a bit and give a covert sniff to deal with the uncomfortable moisture that had gathered, before reaching for the notepad and taking the proffered tape player. 

His aishiid had busied themselves, with what Bren was not sure, but he appreciated their nearness as they worked in the security station together.

Finally, there came a time when Bren started to lose the meaning of words. Starting and stopping the tape only to play it back and back again. He added annotations where necessary, to clarify when his brother had used a term with too much cultural significance or no passably direct translation and to give his knowledge of the Heritage party and best guessing to the queerly human motivations of their new offshoot. It was short work and he didn’t have nearly enough insights as he wanted. 

It left him raw, despite approaching it as analytically as possible, Bren couldn’t escape the fact that it was his brother relaying the information and he put down his pen with a breath. It was good enough and he could read over it once more as he typed it up to send out. The Aiiji could wait until the morning, Bren had at least determined that much. Nothing they could do at the moment with so little information.

“Banichi-ji, please make the Aiji’s security aware that there is nothing time sensitive in the recording and I will be prepared to send over the complete materials in the morning. They might look into increasing the young lord's security for the time being, however.” 

“Yes.” Banichi nodded, rising from his seat next to Algini and slipping out a side door. 

With that settled Bren made his way out to the hallway intent on eating quickly and then going to bed immediately, wanting to let the new information marinate in his brain while he slipped into unconsciousness. He almost ran into Lucas, came inches away from barreling over the boy who had been standing just outside. 

“You- you weren’t in your room.” Lucas startled, as they both stepped back from the near collision in solid embarrassment. “Or- or in the office. I went to look for you because the dining hall was empty. You’re late.” The accusing tone was clear but it was not quite able to mask the hurt and uncertainty underneath. 

The boy looked small, Bren thought, standing alone and uncertain in the large foyer. Small and terribly skinny, in the sort of way young boys were when they grew upwards too fast and hadn’t had time to fill in yet. 

_ God, dinner_. Bren thought. He’d lost threads, there were important matters to attend to. 

He hadn’t _ forgotten _ that he had asked Lucas to come per say, though Bren hadn’t been certain the boy would, but the Paidhi was already halfway to checking out and it took an uncomfortable few seconds to wrench his brain on track. He struggled to focus on the boy in front of him. Lucas looked a shade too pale and there was a slight bruising and redness around the eyes that could only be from lack of sleep and long nights crying. 

Looking at the boy it was hard not to see Toby’s face. Hard not to hear his brothers words, edged with a hint of well controlled panic.

“Uhh-” Lucas made an uncertain noise in the back of his throat, looking seconds away from fleeing back into his rooms.

“Dinner.” Bren said hurriedly, not wanting to lose the first real opportunity he’d had to talk to the boy all week. “I- uh- was just about to head to dinner. Would you care to walk with me? I heard the kitchen is making Pizza.” 

Bren watched as Lucas shifted, a little unsure, torn halfway between a knee jerk indigent reaction and genuine puzzlement.

“Pizza?” The young boy couldn’t help as the puzzlement won out and he trailed after his uncle. 

“Well,” Bren started, letting the hint of an exhausted smile touch his lips in fond amusement. “It doesn’t really look like you’d think. My staff tried their best at Mospheiran dishes a couple years ago as a surprise. It’s mostly bread stacked with cheesy vegetables and a sort of green sauce, they couldn’t get the tomato sauce across the straits you see, but it’s a good hearty dish and it's a nice gesture, welcoming a piece of Mospheria into the home.” Or trying to, however unrecognizable the dish had become in translation. Bren thought in good humor. 

Lucas was still trailing next to him but his eyes were sullenly downcast as he muttered, “But you don’t even _ like _ Mospheira.”

That was certainly concerning statement. 

Bren walked a few paces in silence. “I do.” He replied calmly. “It was my home for almost half my life. Is there a reason you think I don’t?”

“You haven’t been to the island for years except for work.” Lucas pointed out, not unfairly. It was true that Bren’s personal visits to the island had slowed to a stop little more than a year on the job, and the times he did end up on the island had been due to shuttle landings in the middle militant coup d'etats, medical emergencies, and, most recently, a massive political maneuver set forth in an effort to integrate the Reunion Stationers and the Mospherians on the island. 

Bren hummed. He was well aware of the fact, and if he was honest it was mostly his choice. Not even his family or the promise of tea with Ginny Croger held enough appeal to entice him back to his birthplace for very long. 

“True.” He conceded. “Though, some might say distance makes the heart grow fonder.” It hadn’t, but Lucas didn’t need to know that. Suffice it to say Bren bore the Island no ill will like the boy seemed to imply. 

They were seated at the dining table in short order. A small credit to staff for not hesitating at his nephew’s first real appearance since arrival, at this point they were used to humans and had likely been prepped by Jago when she went to request extra settings. 

It was a rather informal dinner by Atevi standards, not really in keeping with anything the Dowager might have laid out, but Bren had always kept a relaxed household and he dared not push Lucas too far. Even Jace, young but still very much an adult at the time, had trouble adjusting to the rigidity and foreignness of Atevi etiquette. Just his nephew's presence was a good first step and so Bren didn’t mind the lack of engagement in small talk or rather rushed table manners. Truthfully, selfishly, Bren was a little relieved for the silence. There would be time to start building a rapport in the days to come and, as distracted as he had become in the last hour, it was probably for the best that Bren didn’t attempt to lay any groundwork for a new and budding relationship interface just yet. Despite the quiet, however, the tension in the room had eased greatly over the course of the meal and Bren was hopeful.

Lucas did manage a small, hesitant smile when a young female member of staff brought out the main dish. The “pizza” looked nothing like it should though was undeniably delicious, and Bren couldn’t help the humorous glint in his eye as the two humans made eye contact over the food. 

The good humor disappeared just as quickly as the pizza and with all the food gone the smile slipped from Lucas’s face. 

Lucas looked up over a last bite and turned to Bren. “How long will I have to stay here?” He asked.

Bren took a moment to put down his fork and signal to the staff member waiting by the door for clean up. Traditionally it would be time to move to the study for tea and more divisive conversation, but Bren wasn’t going to push his luck. A small break in etiquette to get an important question out of the way would be excused by his ever understanding staff.

“Well,” He started “I would assume you are to stay here until either the president or myself can find out what happened to your father. We need to make sure that it is safe for you to go home before sending you back across the straits.”

“Then I’ll never get home!” Lucas suddenly burst from his chair, the wood screeching harshly as it was pushed back with some force. The ateva by his left shoulder froze with the abrupt outburst looking towards Bren's security before making a polite and swift exit, giving at least the illusion of privacy for bad behavior. 

“How so?” Bren asked, still seated. Lucas almost deflated at the question, losing momentum in a quick flash of surprise and uncertainty.

“Because!” He started, remaining standing. Indignation brought back his shoulders and shored up his stance. It was easy to see that he was too young and hard headed to back down from his outburst easily and too prideful to learn the value of de-escalation. “Because, you won’t find what happened to him!” His voice cracked as it raised in volume and Bren could see the way his throat began to tighten in panic. 

“You couldn’t care less so why would you even try?! You can’t even remember what caring is, if you had really loved my dad you wouldn’t have left him to die in the first place!” 

“That is not what happened to your father.” Bren said sternly. It was one thing to understand the boy’s panic at being trapped on the mainland but it was purely another to tolerate this sort of lashing out and Bren was still too raw from a few hours ago to deal with these unsubstantiated recriminations.

“I _ know _ what happened to my father, _ you _ happened to my father. They killed him because of _ you _!” 

“Lucas, that’s enough.” Bren broke in, standing from his chair slowly. He had half a mind to leave and despite his best efforts the words hurt, to be told that the last remnants of his family thought him too cold, too foreign. It hurt more to know that in some ways they were true. _ Because of him _...

“_You killed him _!” Lucas yelled, reaching a fever pitch of energy as hot angry tears gathered on his cheeks. “And you expect me to sit around and eat dinner with you and pretend you care about him? Pretend that you care about any of us besides your house of _freaks_? It should have been you, they should have killed _you_. You’re the one everybody hates!” 

Bren phased out again, he couldn’t stop the incessant ringing in his ear. Had he killed toby? Had something he’d done politically been directly responsible? Should he have guarded his brother more closely? Bren didn’t know. 

It hurt to have his worst fears spoken out loud by another person, fears the Paidhi grappled with alone in the darkness of his own thoughts. It suddenly gave them a weight that was hard to ignore.

_ Had he done this? _

His vision went a little blurry around the edges and he pinched his nose in frustration trying to will away the overwhelming tidal wave of emotions. It was too much all in one day.

It took Bren only moments to notice that the room had gone silent again. His security was no longer standing by the far wall, having made their way halfway to the table, unsure of the events unfolding before them. With a sigh he brought up a second hand to his face and allowed himself a moment to dig palms harshly into his eyes.

It was all a mess. All he could hear was the awful splintering of wood and Toby's harsh pants in his ear.

There was a shifting across the table from him. “Are you?...” Lucas paused, uncertain. The wind having left his sails as teenage anger gave way to the horror of seeing an adult break down. 

“_Stop that _ !” A note of panic edged into the boy's voice as he faced the consequences of his outburst. “You don’t cry! You can’t! _ Stop it_!”

Bren’s hands remained clasped firmly over his eyes as he refused to respond, not trusting himself to speak as he controlled his breathing for a few seconds.

“I don’t believe that’s very fair Lucas.” Bren said, managing a level tone as he finally lowered his hands and worked to smooth out his pinched facial features. 

“I love my brother very much.” He continued, ignoring the odd hitching as his voice got away from him for just a moment. “But you’re right, in a way I might have killed him…I have no way of truly knowing." Bren finished in a near whisper. 

There was an odd tension in the room after his admission and Bren looked towards his nephew, dreading the ghost of his brother’s face standing across from him in condemnation. 

But oddly enough, it wasn’t there. 

Bren suddenly couldn’t remember what he was going to say. He was caught up looking at Lucas’ face, no longer loosened in shock. It had contorted again, pinching up and flushing, but this time it wasn’t in anger. He took a moment to silently examine his nephew’s struggling expression, the warring emotions looking disturbing like guilt and shame. It felt out of place and Bren was left with the odd sensation of having missed something.

Slowly, finally, Lucas seemed to reach some point of resolve and, closing his eyes tightly, gave a shake of his head.

“No.” He whispered, voice so low it sounded hoarse.

_ No what? _ Bren fought the hurt and frustration as he waited, watching his nephew hesitantly open his mouth to speak again.

“I lied.”

“Excuse me?” Bren couldn’t help it, no doubt he was missing threads. No doubt he was missing a whole goddamn quilt.

“I- I lied. You couldn’t have killed him.” Lucas repeated, voiced growing a little louder but clogged in the way one got when one was trying desperately not to cry.

“What do you mean, Lucas?” Bren asked softly. This wasn’t just an apology, there was something important skimming just beneath the surface, something that Bren wasn’t quite seeing yet. 

“You couldn’t have killed dad, because I did.” Tears had begun to slip down his cheeks. “It was my fault. I-I _ told _ them where he would be.” 

Bren felt frozen as a cold dread starting to spread through his gut. His face was going numb.

The misplaced anger. The guilt.

It would explain Lucas’ unpredictably volatile behavior, but Bren couldn’t believe his nephew had _ willingly _ done such a thing. 

Lucas was staring at his hands, a faint tremor was barely visible. “I told them.” He repeated almost pleadingly. “It was just supposed to be a scare. They said he wouldn’t get hurt and that it would make the President listen...I didn’t think-” His words choked off.

“Who are “they” Lucas?” 

“I didn’t think- and then he went missing and I told myself it couldn’t have been me. I told myself that it was because of you, because conflict follows you and so many people hate you. But, you’re not like… you’re just... you’re _ normal _. You haven’t done anything. It was me. I did this…”

Lucas was crying in earnest now and Bren forced himself to move, ruthlessly pushing down the ugly emotions that were trying to form in his chest as he walked toward the distressed child.

Bren rounded the table smoothly and reached out to wipe a stream of tears from Lucas’ face. 

“_Bren-ji!_” Jago hissed.

Oh God, Bren spared a thought for the Atevi in the room, patiently waiting for any signal from him, tense and unsure. His security would most certainly not be pleased with such an outburst or accusation and it would likely be impossible to properly explain, but he couldn't take a moment for damage control right now. This, what just happened, felt too important.

Too important and fragile to stop now.

This was a turning point and now, with everything laid bare on the table, whatever poison was between him and his nephew could be drained and they could move forward.

“No, Lucas. You didn’t.” He said, pulling the boy into his arms.

His nephew shook his head in furious denial and Bren's security gave a panicked protest.

“You didn’t. They were adults and they used you. Whoever you talked to, they are the ones to blame, not you.” 

They stood like that for a moment, Lucas’ sobs muffled in Bren’s chest as he clung to his uncle. 

“Let's clean up.” Bren said finally. “I believe there is something you can help me with in the morning. We can figure this out together.” They may have found the missing piece to Toby's puzzle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I DON'T HAVE SOLUTIONS JUST MORE PROBLEMS XD
> 
> So...I struggled with this chapter a lot and it took me a long loooonnggg time to finish the second half because, even though I've been relatively happy with my work so far, I'm still very new to writing. I hope I did a good enough job handling such an important emotional turning point and that it was enjoyable to read... even if I didn't edit as I should have. 
> 
> I'm looking forward to some confused Atevi shenanigans and sprinkles of fluff in the coming chapters... maybe then I'll stop making Bren cry every update, hahaha. ;D
> 
> Catch me on tumblr if you want to chat or see art things @i-drive-a-nii-san and please please let me know what you think in the comments. <3


	7. Chapter 7: The Shift

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all, sorry for the long wait and lack of a double update this time. This chapter has been sitting in my drafts for an embarrassingly long time and it's time to share. 
> 
> 2020 sure has been wild and I wanted to thank everyone for the really wonderful comments that I received on the last chapter, from the bottom of my heart. It has been so motivating to know that the people are liking the story and very exciting to see speculation! 
> 
> Stay safe out there <3

They didn’t make it to the morning.

After a couple of shaky breaths and a particularly awkward side hug that the Atevi watched with great apprehension, Bren led his nephew out from the dining room and back to the guest suite. Lucas was silent apart from a couple desperately quieted hitched breaths, which Bren chose to politely ignore, not wanting to needlessly embarrass the boy who was fighting so hard to regain his composure. Bren did, however, keep a gentle hand on his shoulder while they walked, which Lucas made no move to escape.

They reached the rooms and Bren shooed away staff, handing his nephew a small set of specially tailored sleep clothes and ushering Lucas to the bathroom himself. Banichi, who had been silently dogging Bren’s steps since the outburst at dinner, crossed his arms as he watched the procession in silence. His face was carefully blank. 

The silence reigned untouched until Lucas re emerged. He hesitated, looking terribly small in the atevi sized door frame, day clothes bundled in his arms and held securely to his chest. 

“Here.” Bren called in Mospheii, gesturing towards the large atevi bed. The comforter that Lucas had dragged onto the floor earlier that day was placed back on the bed and neatly straightened, whether by Lucas’ own efforts or the Paidhi’s ever diligent staff he didn’t know. It was, he noted, thankfully devoid of ink stains. 

Bren sat on the bed and began to turn it down, waiting expectantly for Lucas to crawl in. The boy looked at him and a small scowl formed on his face even as an embarrassed flush rose high on his cheeks. 

“I don’t need to be babied.” He muttered. His voice was still too shaky to hold any real irritation so Bren just hummed in affirmation and watched as the boy climbed into the bed with little more than token resistance. 

“Would you like me to stay?” He asked as he pulled up the linens. Lucas glanced at Bren’s security detail and quickly ducked his head under the covers, pulling them from Bren’s hands and flopping down petulantly. 

“No.”

“Are you sure?” Bren questioned softly, trying not to be amused. It was a minor relief to see Lucas regain his footing, even when it meant a comeback of his attitude. 

The bundle of blankets shifted in irritation. “Go away.” Lucas said in an exaggerated surly tone, bemoaning the new attention of his uncle. “This is weird, I liked you better before.”

This time Bren almost did laugh, a small sharp exhalation of air from his nose, as he fought a smile. The shaky come down from a tense and emotionally driven turning point made him feel almost giddy. 

Neither of them could say the situation they’ve landed themselves in was ideal, but if felt like maybe some of the smoke blocking their way had cleared with Lucas’s decision to trust him. 

Bren felt a small tendril of connection forming. A very human connection. 

He couldn’t _ not _ care for the boy, not after coming out of his own grief and directly into a new understanding of his nephew’s. It had, perhaps, been premature for Bren to feel like Toby’s death had left him bereft of any familial connection in the world. And, while he was still entirely unequipped to deal with a hurt and traumatized teenager, if there was one thing Bren knew how to deal with, it was the misplaced guilt. The both of them had it in spades.

There was also the new consideration that Lucas’ involvement might give them a very real chance at solving this mess and they both knew it. 

Bren _ knew _ underhanded political maneuvers. If the two of them could just sit down tomorrow morning and get a positive ID on the man Lucas had talked too, well, The Paidhi-aiji could handle the rest. 

Maybe Toby’s faith in him hadn’t been misplaced. Bren desperately hoped so, for all of their sakes. 

He left then, after gently patting the lump of blankets and receiving an overly dramatic groan as Lucas turned over so that he was curled up on his side underneath the covers, facing away from his uncle.

\--

“Nand’ Lucas leaked Toby nadi’s location and is the reason for his death.” Banichi started with little preamble as they walked down the hall towards Bren’s suite. “He is a verified security threat, even to his closest associates, which you are assuredly not.”

Bren grimaced, entirely unhappy with the Atevi’s grim take away from Lucas’ confession. 

He waved his hand as he opened the door and passed through to his personal sitting room, putting off the comment momentarily so he could think. 

Banichi and Jago trailed closely behind, two large and looming shadows. Tano and Algini were suspiciously absent. 

“He _ must _ go.” Banichi pressed. 

“It was not purposeful.” Bren reasoned. “He was lied to. It is the fault of the liar not the child.”

“He willingly gave dangerous information to a person outside his association, without even verifying the stranger’s intentions. It is a sickness, Bren-ji,” Banichi’s voice was low and damning, “to lack man’chi in such a way that you endanger even your Aijiin with ill considered recklessness. To be able to do such a thing, it is a personal deficit.”

“It is not.” Bren answered just as willful, grabbing a decanter and moving to pour his own brandy before either Ateva could move to do so. He poured an extra finger and then filled two more cups, holding one out to Banichi. 

It was a hard gulf to tackle. For Atevi the matter was one of biologically programmed instincts, impossible to stray from without a serious sickness of the mind. For humans, however, it was a matter of learning. There was no innate awareness or consideration of those around you at birth and it takes years for a child to fully conceptualize how the ramifications of their actions ripple out to touch others. Forethought and empathy are and have always been developed skills. Sometimes more or less developed than others.

Bren had to admit that Lucas had made a mistake. A devastating and everlasting mistake. But he also knew that nothing anyone could say or do now would ever be more recriminating than what Lucas already told himself, every waking moment since his realisation. It was a very hard and cruel lesson for a child, Bren thought, and he would easily stake his own safety on there never being a repeat occurrence.

Banichi grimaced, eyeing the offered glass and inhaling deeply as he crossed his arms over his barrel chest once more. Either his bodyguard was more distressed than Bren had anticipated or was being uncharacteristically obvious with his emotions in the intimate company. 

“No.” Banichi said, low and forceful, still eyeing the outstretched glass stubbornly.

“Yes.” Bren countered, moving forward. “Sit and drink Nandi-ji. I am not trying to distract you, but we must talk properly.” He held out the glass once more. 

Finally Banichi took it and sat down with a deliberate slowness. 

“As the Paihdi- Aiji wishes.” He said, coldly.

There was a moment of silence and Bren had to bite back an immediate retort, surprised at how much the impersonal title hurt coming from Banichi. It had been years since he’d been addressed as such by any of his Aishiid in private. 

“Don’t.” Bren warned. “I am not so foreign to you, even in this.” 

“Are you not? Our Bren-ji knows better than to ignore the concerns of his aishiid.” Banichi said gravely. “Our Bren-ji has learned not to willingly endanger his own life, if only because he knows that in doing so he endangers his aishiid and staff as well. He is more considerate than this.” 

Bren could understand it. Really he could. The frustration Banichi must be feeling, not being able to understand the seemingly dangerous and errant behavior of his charge, even after so many years together, but he had done his best to reassure them these past days and if his reassurances had come across as brush offs, it was more because Bren had no other way of truly explaining his human perspective. 

The gap in the interface felt wider than ever this past week and grew each moment.

Bren sat down in the seat across from Banichi and took a sip from his own glass while simultaneously holding out the third to Jago as she smoothly sat down beside him. The whole thing was rushed and terrible manners on Bren’s part.

“Bren-ji.” Jago spoke as she took her glass, looking from Banichi’s stoney face to him. “We will talk now.”

“We will.” He agreed. 

She sounded stern but not upset, more contemplative as she looked him over.

Bren swallowed.

“Our worlds are different.” He began. “Children are not taught to look out for this sort of danger. They are susceptible to it. Adults even. It’s not a concern for average people. And yes taught, we must be taught about these things. Lucas had no malicious intent and was truly not at fault for Toby’s death, it was the fault of the man who took advantage of his naivete.” Bren forced his voice to remain assured, leaving no room for doubt in his beliefs. Bringing his own tangled web of feelings on the matters of guilt and blame in his brother’s death would only serve to unnecessarily complicate the situation and the boy needed someone on his side. 

“By human presumption and by human presumption only it was not his fault.” Banichi retorted, less than charitably. He had yet to take a sip of his drink. They were not standing on formalities this night. 

“We _ are _ human.” Bren said, shifting so he could lean forward towards his first real association. “Banichi, please.” It was a plea for understanding. “Cross that barrier between us, even just a little bit, and meet me halfway. He is young and mistaken. Teach him, don't condemn him.”

Banichi huffed out a sigh but took a moment to relax into his chair just the smallest amount before taking a sip from his glass and setting it aside politely. “He still does not hold man’chi to you.” He pointed out matter of factly.

Bren had half a mind to remind his security that Lucas was in fact incapable of holding man’chi to anyone, as Bren himself was, but it would be pedantic so he held his tongue. This was progress and they both knew the implied nuances when talking cross species by now. 

“Unclear...” Jago spoke up unexpectedly, in a thoughtful tone. Banichi’s eyes snapped to her and Bren turned half in his seat to get a better look up at her face.

“Jago?” He prompted.

“It is unclear whether or not he hold’s man’chi to you, Bren-ji, but…” She paused uncharacteristically as if searching for words. “Tonight. Something shifted.” She blinked and addressed Banichi. “When Bren-ji crossed the table to comfort Lucas nandi, it was the first time that he did not turn away in some form. Since that interaction Lucas nandi’s shoulders have angled towards Bren-ji, no matter where he moved in the room and even when not directly speaking.” 

That was, well, unsettling to say the least, Bren thought. He was glad for whatever Jago saw tonight that had reassured her, but he was also undeniably perturbed by the details she seemed to pick up. He couldn’t help but wonder what his own subconscious movements telegraphed and if she could read him just as well.

“Watch them tomorrow Banichi-ji.” She instructed, looking at her senior with an unwavering stare. “It’s not wholly different but it's not quite the same.”

Banichi narrowed his eyes but remained quiet. 

“You see it?” He asked.

“Yes.”

Banichi let out another sigh, but this time in resignation “It’s been a week. Humans move too slow in these matters.” He commented cryptically as he stood and moved passed them to the door with a polite inclination of his head.

“Yes.” Jago agreed as she let him out the door.

“Nadi.”

Bren watched the abrupt farewell, left with the vague sense he should be offended by whatever had just transgressed. 

\--

He looked up as Jago reentered and walked into the bedroom, shedding her heavy outer armor as she went. 

“You’re staying tonight?” He asked. She turned to him as he came up beside her in the bedroom and began to shed his own brocade. Jago merely tilted her head to look at him and lifted a hand to brush at a wisp of hair that had fallen out of his que. 

“Will you be bathing tonight?” She asked instead.

That was a yes then, Bren thought. He nodded.

She took his hand as they made their way to the large bath off of his bedroom. It was more a ledged pool than anything one would find in a Mospherian bathroom, though the water was hot and clear with white crystalline sand at the bottom. Bren sunk in gratefully.

“May I?” He asked Jago, gesturing to the tight que she had not bothered to unfasten before stepping into the pool.

She nodded before sinking underneath the water for a moment and coming back up to settle on a sandstone seat at the edge of the bath next to Bren. She folded her legs out in front of her casually. 

The water reached her breast line while sitting, though for Bren it was up to his chin. He quickly propped himself up on his knees and moved behind her to unplate her hair gently. It was so rare that they had this luxury and while Jago assisted in braiding his hair more often than not, it was unusual that Bren got to return the favor. He savored the feeling as he finger combed their way through wet strands, working slowly up from the tips so as not to tug. Assassin or not, there was always room for this tenderness between them. 

He felt it as her shoulders began to relax, though he knew she would never truly go off duty as the only guard present. Not with this new and ever evolving threat in the air. 

“You ‘like’ him, nadi.” She spoke into the contented silence.

The sentence sounded funny in Ragi. 

Their word ‘like’ being meant only for soups and salads and other inanimate things, never people. But Jago knew what she was doing. There was an underlying humor in the odd phrasing that was not lost on either of them, playing off old jokes and nostalgia. 

For the second time that night, the corner of Bren’s lips lifted. It was the closest he’d come to truly smiling in days. He’d needed the time and the space, he knew, but his heart hurt to think of the distance he’d forced on his aishiid in his grief. 

“I do. One finds it hard not to ‘like’, Jajo-ji.” Bren replied softly, leaning forward to press a soft kiss to the juncture of her shoulder as he swept the damp hair to the side. 

Jago turned to him then, so graceful she barely disturbed the water. Her strong corded back rippling underneath his hands with the twist. When she’d turned fully, she brought up an arm to bracket Bren against the lip of the bath and looked down at him. Even on his knees she had half a head on him.

“Okay.” She said gravely and Bren knew it to be acceptance.

He met her unwavering yellow eyes, watching as they glowed with the flickering light, and for the first time since Toby’s death had tangled their interface Bren truly felt seen.

\--

The bed was large and warm, silky linens clinging to their water damp skin as they tangled together. It was improper to not thoroughly dry after a bath. As it was to leave their hair down and unbraided, rife with tangles, but they did both. Their private disregard for custom feeling just the right side of excitement as Jago pressed him down into the mattress, her solid weight a comfort as her wet hair messily hung down around her face and got caught up in the press of their bodies.

That she would let him see her like this, it still felt like a miracle, Bren thought. Even after all these years the familiar heat and soothing touch spoke more between them than words ever could. They held onto each other tightly as they unspun. 

\--

Bren was shaken roughly awake by Jago as she grabbed her gun. In the same swift move she deftly bundled the top sheet around his naked body and pulled, half dragging him off the bed.

He stumbled to his feet, the sheet landing clutch around his shoulders.

“Come.” She said, tugging.

He could just make out the sounds of running coming from out in the hall and low muffled thumps of flesh meeting flesh. 

Jago led them away from the bed towards the door and Bren wondered briefly if perhaps staying in his rooms would be more defensible, but he complied swiftly and without complaint. If Jago said to get moving there was a reason and it wasn’t his place to demand explanations of the guild, especially when it would only slow them down and put them both in danger. He could give up control when need be.

They didn’t, however, end up leaving his rooms at all. 

Jago stopped in front of a heavy hickory bureau that was settled conveniently in the door’s blind spot. 

“Down.”

She pushed Bren up against the corner where the wall met the back end of the bureau, the Atevi furniture easily taking him out of eyesight if he crouched just so. She got down next to him, pressing her bare back to his knees and holding out her gun. 

Bren heard more scuffling and two rapid gunshots. 

“Lucas?” He asked, seeing Jago was already on her com, listening intently. 

“Safe.” She said before talking into the mic in a rapid string of numbers and words. Bren could only make out some of the guild speak, most of his aishiid’s own personal codes being rotated too frequently for him to keep up with any that they did not specifically make for him to follow. 

“It is clear.” She said finally. 

The whole ordeal lasted no more than a few minutes. 

“Tano found an unidentified guild member attempting to get into Lucas nandi’s room. Algini is doing a sweep of the apartment now. It does not look like there are any others.”

“How did they get in?” Bren asked, fully aware of his aishiid’s multi layered and deadly security measures. He shivered at the thought of modified trip wires.

“We don’t know.” She responded tensely. Obviously this fact greatly displeased her. 

“The timing is...convenient.” She said looking back at him from over her shoulder. 

“A response to tonight’s events?” Bren asked incredulously. So fast? A potential mole then? He didn’t want to think such a thing of his staff. 

“We can’t be sure.” Was all she said in answer, pushing up to her feet in a smooth movement as Banichi came in through the door. 

“We’re leaving.” He said and Jago nodded. With a quick look over the two of them, Banichi silently handed Jago an unmarked guild issue shirt and left back into the hallway.

She put it on quickly, covering her bare breasts, and walked back to the bed, grabbing last night's discarded pants. Bren followed, quickly divesting himself of the tangled sheet and 

pulling on his own discarded clothes, unfortunately wrinkled because of their improper folding. He had barely dressed when he heard a shout.

“Bren!”

He turned at the sound of his name to see Lucas by Tano’s side, still in his night clothes. Upon seeing his uncle, the boy bolted, only just pulling up short of a collision. 

His eyes were rounded with panic and he made a gulping sound, trying to settle his urgent breathing. 

“What’s going on?” He whispered, eyeing the guns around them.

“We’ll have to leave tonight, to go somewhere safer.” Bren answered in Mospheii. “It’s just a precaution, though.” He added as he saw the panic starting to rise again. He’d certainly fared no better his first assassination attempt, though Bren was relatively sure that his nephew had no real understanding that he had almost been assassinated or the magnitude of what had just unfolded, the entire situation consisting of only a few minutes of noise and a sudden swath of heavily armed Atevi dragging him from sleep.

“I thought it was supposed to be safer here!” Lucas hissed and Bren put a hand on the boy’s shoulder in reassurance, hoping to quiet him. There was nothing he could say to that.

Tano motioned for them to move and they left Bren’s rooms as a group, heading back out into the hallway. Tano was in front and Jago took up the back, having already grabbed two large fully packed bags from somewhere and slung them across her person while the two were talking. 

“5 minutes.” Banichi said as they met just outside the door. 

“Lucas will need to get dressed.” Bren pointed out, pulling the boy up next to him by a rumpled silken sleeve. 

“8 minutes.” He amended, striding down the hallway at a fast clip towards the front of the apartment and the rooms Lucas was guesting in.

Bren followed with the group but paused as they got closer to finger at the deep grooves pock marking the wood leading to Lucas’ door. His nephew’s eyes grew wide as he traced one of the scars to a twisted nub of metal deeply embedded into the frame. It was obviously a bullet.

“Shameful.” Banichi said, glancing back at the damage with disdain. “A distinct lack of finesse.” He pronounced. It was a deeply condemning statement in the eye’s of the Guild. 

“Amateurs.” Algini agreed, materializing from behind them and already halfway past the group as he spoke. He continued on towards the foyer and disappeared into the guild station with no further comment. 

Suddenly, there was a loud crash from off in the direction of the kitchen and two things happened. Lucas let out a sharp high pitched yell, grabbed at Bren’s arm and plastered himself to his uncle’s side in terror. Almost simultaneously, the nearest bodyguard pulled Bren down and against the wall, taking Lucas’s small body with them, the two landing in a heap with Tano’s vested chest covering them. 

“Clear.” Jago’s voice came again from above. “It was staff disposing of the body.”

“Tano.” Banichi’s said gravely. 

Tano nodded, helping Bren and Lucas up before swiftly grabbing the boy's small arm and pulling him into the room. Bren grimaced at the panicked looks shot his way as Lucas was taken away to prepare for the upcoming travel. This was not something to fight his aishiid on, the threat was obviously still very real.

“He jumped toward you.” Banichi commented, almost idly as he came up beside Bren and watched the two disappear into the guest rooms, though his expression remained sharp. 

Bren looked over his shoulder seeing that Jago had disappeared as well and then turned back to Banichi questioningly. “When he thought there was danger, he jumped _ toward _ you.” Banichi continued with some emphasis.

It clicked then.

He was referencing an Atevi proverb about man’chi. It was commonly thought that danger revealed one’s true allegiances, that when the metaphorical bullets flew an Ateva would always jump towards their Aijii, following the flow upwards tug of their man’chi like a compass pointing north. Invariable and unfailing loyalty. 

It led Atevi to search for similar patterns in human behavior, watching actors in Old Earth horror movies run to and fro while buildings exploded in the background, and drawing complicated relationships and connections that never existed. It was why human movies had proved wholly unsatisfactory to the few adult Atevi who had access to them, never providing the correct pay off that their unintentional signals lead the Atevi to expect. 

They had all seen first hand that this wasn’t always the case, most notably with the young Aiji during an unfortunate shooting at Lord Gegi’s estate, but that didn’t seem to deter his aishiid in the slightest. 

Bren was personally of the opinion that Lucas’ frantic bid for his arm had more to do with a matter of survival and the desperation of a child pushed far past his means in an adult world. It didn’t quite equate to the man’chi connection that Banichi seemed to be inferring or even the more human concept of love, though Bren found it frighteningly easy to care for the boy. Frighteningly easy to care in a way that was deeper than one week of stilted conversation and their blood relation strictly called for. He felt grateful for the tentative trust they had seemed to build tonight but knew Lucas’ actions towards him indicated nothing but a severe lack of trusted adult figures in the boy’s life.

It was, however, a relief to see the acceptance in Banichi’s eyes that Lucas was not a threat, no matter how he may have come to the conclusion.

“If we are compromised, nadi...” Bren began, leaving Banichi’s observation carefully unverified and instead voicing a separate thought that had weighed on his mind heavily since Jago’s comment just minutes ago. 

“...would it not be safer to send the boy back to the island?” He asked. “The attack was Atevi and it is a dangerous coincidence that this happened the night Lucas decided to entrust us with information in the morning.”

Banichi shook his head. “The assassins were Atevi but the root of the threat remains human and Mospherian. If he had remained on the island he would have mostly likely already been killed.” 

Bren couldn’t help his hissed intake of breath. That was not ideal.

“So he stays with us.” Bren said, trying to bite back his own selfish relief that he was still the safer option and would get to keep the boy with them for now. “We take him on the move.”

“The island will likely try to get him back in the next few days.” Banichi warned. “He’s an unwilling player with too much information. They will want him close and back under their control, easy to use or eliminate.”

Another thought.

“What of Cajeire, Banichi?” Bren asked suddenly. “The recording this afternoon implied that _ he _ is the real target of their plans. If the Bu-Javid is compromised, then his safety is in question too?” Bren asked, suddenly regretting his decision not to have treated information more urgently. He should have met with Tabini and not sent a half baked message through staff. 

His heart rate kicked up a notch, was Cajeire already targeted just as Lucas had been? Had he endangered the child with his negligence?

“The Young Aiji has already left.” Banichi answered, stopping the spiral.

“Left?” Bren asked, taken aback.

“Left.” Banichi confirmed. “The Aiiji planned on relocating him this evening, immediately after your translation was sent. He is packed and already off the grounds, though not out of the city. The young-aiji and his aishiid will meet us on the red train shortly.”

Oh.

Bren was indescribably relieved at that fact that the young lord was safe, no thanks to the paihdi's negligence, though he couldn’t shake a trickle of apprehension at the thought of the two groups traveling together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaannnddd we're on the move again, except this time the boys are gonna meet!! 
> 
> Poor Bren, he's not ready to be an unofficial dad of two and someone is definitely going to make a mess of things... it just might not be who you'd expect. 
> 
> Come hang on my tumblr @i-drive-a-nii-san


End file.
